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random-crappypasta-qoutes · 3 years ago

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This will probably be my longest post ever lol. Well, get ready for this behemoth of a story called Happy Tree Friends: The Funeral.

nscript

(the movie begins in the hospital showing Lumpy as a doctor, he comes across Buzz Lightyear, who has broken his arm off)

Lumpy: Hello, do you need fixing up?

Buzz Lightyear: Don't talk to me!

(Lumpy comes over to a bruised and bloodied Cuddles' hospital bed)

Lumpy: So, you were beaten up by Scoutmaster Lumpus?

Cuddles: (coughing up blood) Y-yes....

Lumpy: Hmmmmmmmm…..don't worry, I can make you better! (rubs two defibrillator paddles together) CLEAR! (electrocutes Cuddles, which burns him until his heart explodes)

(everyone shrieks)

Lumpy: Whoops, sorry....

Toothy: He's not the only one you know, Russell died of lung cancer, Flaky had of a heart attack from entering a chick farm, Cub was shot by a black guy because Pop wasn't there to protect him, Mime was shot by Cleveland Brown, and Splendid puked his organs out after swallowing the Kryptonut.

Nutty: Oh, why would we lose them too?!

Petunia: This is just terrible!

(later, at the funeral)

(The Intermezzo of Cavalleria Rusticana starts playing as the remaining Happy Tree Friends mourn for Cuddles, Russell, Flaky, Cub, Mime, and Splendid)

Reverend Lovejoy: Here lies Cuddles the bunny, Russell the pirate otter, Flaky the porcupine, Cub the baby bear, Mime the mime deer, and Splendid the super squirrel. We shall never forget the times we had with them.

PhantomStrider: (blows a horn) YAY!!!! 6 OF THE HAPPY TREE FRIENDS ARE DEAD!!!!

Happy Tree Friends Hater #1: LET'S CELEBRATE!!!!

PhantomStrider: (starts playing the Chicken Song by J.Geco)

Flippy: You evil disrespectors! I swear I'll cut you in your sleep!

Reverend Lovejoy: Question, how did Cuddles die?

Sniffles: Lumpy shocked him to death after he got beaten by Scoutmaster Lumpus.

Reverend Lovejoy: Oh, okay.

Diesel: Alright people, LET'S TEAR THIS PLACE DOWN!!!

PhantomStrider: I’m full of surprises, they ought to say of me, I bring some razzle dazzle to the yard, I’m full of surprises, as you can plainly, I don’t find being surprising all that hard. Some would probably say, I’m only up to my old tricks, but I’d say I’m a problem solver, looking for a nice quick fix. I’m full of surprises, they ought to say of me, I bring some razzle dazzle to the rail, I’m full of surprises, as you can plainly see, I’m trusting my surprises to prevail, I hope this time being surprising doesn’t fail! They used to call me devious, because I had a pit of previous, but please you must believious, I’m not that bad… Well maybe just a tad.

Crowd of Characters: (applause)

Russell Ferguson: That's what that pirate otter gets for stealing my name!

PhantomStrider: Come here, Happy Tree Friends haters!

Happy Tree Friends Haters: Coming!

PhantomStrider: Are you a real villain?

Hater #1: Well, uhhh….technically not

PhantomStrider: Have you ever caught a good guy like a real superhero?

Hater #1: Nah!

(Hater #2 shakes his head)

PhantomStrider: Have you ever tried a disguise?

Hater #1: Nah, nah....

PhantomStrider: Alright! I can see that I will have to teach you how to be villains!

Happy Tree Friends Haters: Hey! We are number one! Hey! We are number one!

PhantomStrider: Now listen closely. Here’s a little lesson in trickery. This is going down in history, If you wanna be a villain number one, You’ll have to chase a superhero on the run. Just follow my moves and sneak around be careful not to make a sound. (Happy Tree Friends Hater #1 steps on a branch) No! Don’t touch that! Ha, ha, ha! Now look at this net I just found. When I say “Go!”, be ready to throw! Go! Throw it at him, not me! Ugh! Let’s try something else. Now watch and learn, here’s the deal, you’ll slip and slide on these banana peel, (Happy Tree Friends haters slip on the Banana peels) What are you doing?! We are number one Hey! Hey!

Crowd of Characters: (applause)

Handy: Hmph!

Lumpy: I kinda like it!

PhantomStrider: And for you guys, I have something to say to you.

Giggles: Oh, great.....

PhantomStrider: A man has fallen into the river in LEGO City! Start the new rescue helicopter.

Crowd of Characters: HEY!!

PhantomStrider: Build the helicopter, and off to the rescue. Prepare the lifeline, lower the stretcher, and make the rescue. The new emergency collection from LEGO City!

Pop: My son is dead and you're telling us songs and quotes that make no sense?!

Flippy: (flips out) THAT IS IT!!!! WE WILL KILL YOU!!!!

(Silence breaks for 10 seconds)

PhantomStrider, the Happy Tree Friends Haters, and Crowd of Characters: (booing and throwing things at them)

Duck: Dingus!

Oliver: You shut up!

Smudger: Preachy!

Lammy: We’re not being preachy.

Yong Bao: (throws a jar of macaroni and cheese at Disco Bear)

Happy Tree Friends Hater #1: I thought they touched on a vital issue.

PhantomStrider: I beg to differ, hi-yah! (throws a rock)

Flippy: Okay! Okay! Uncle! We give up! Can we please call this a truce?

(Meanwhile…)

Frankie: (recording) Theo, this is not safe at all.

Theo: Shut up, Frankie! Just keep filming, Okay. I’m Theo, and I am The Greatest American Hero, my special power is being somehow memorable after a very short run on TV.

(Merlin, Hurricane and Lexi set off)

Theo: (singing) Believe it or not, I’m walking on air, I never thought I would be so free…

(Hurricane, Lexi and Merlin let go of Theo)

Theo: (still singing) Flyin’ away on a wing and a pray’r, who could it be? (could it be) believe it or not, it’s just… (crashes into a tree and falls into the lake at PhantomStrider’s concert, everyone stops booing and starts laughing at Theo)

Reverend Lovejoy: In many ways Cuddles, Russell, Flaky, Cub, Mime, and Splendid were supporting characters in our lives, they didn't grab out our attention with memorable catchphrases or comical accents.

Nutty: Awwwwwwwwwwww..........

PhantomStrider and Haters: (Singing) These guys are not use at all; Thinks they’re very clever. Says that they can manage us; that’s the best joke ever! When they order us about, with the greatest folly, we just kill them! Pop Goes Old Dummies! (PhantomStrider and the haters laugh and then run up to the Happy Tree Friends with spears, torches, pitchforks, katanas, battering rams, axes, pistols, chainsaws, whips, bazookas, tasers, pepper spray, medieval flails, maces, shis, staffs, nunchucks, rolling pins, shurikens, broken glass bottles, and plasma cannons making battle cries and kill them)

(later, they all respawn back in a different timeline)

Cuddles: Well, of course we'd all be back. It's Happy Tree Friends, for goodness sake! Next time I'll stay away from Scoutmaster Lumpus. Hmmm....that's funny, I feel hungry for some cat all of a sudden. (sees a cat on the floor, pupils dialate) Come here, after-death snack! (iris closes up on the cat as Cuddles eats it offscreen)

(after-credits scene, July 19, 2069…)

Hater #1: Uuuuuuuuuuh, PhantomStrider? I don't think we should be here again.

PhantomStrider: Come on, the Happy Tree Friends are all dead now.

Hater #2: But you know they can respawn, right?

PhantomStrider: I know, but they'll respawn in a different timeline, so there's nothing here to be afraid of.

(a hand grabs PhantomStrider and throws him off a bridge)

PhantomStrider: (screams)

(the Happy Tree Friends haters watch PhantomStrider fall to his death, now more scared than before, they turn around and see Jack Skellington heading towards them)

Jack Skellington: GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!

(cuts to static)

(after-credits scene second part, Cuddles is fast asleep with Giggles in their bed together, when their room is intruded by PhantomStrider's ghost, just as PhantomStrider raises his arm to attack them, Cuddles wakes up and finds that the room is empty. Assuming PhantomStrider's ghost to be a dream, Cuddles goes back to sleep, oblivious to the presence of PhantomStrider's shirt on the floor)

This is... *inhales* *exhales*

What does PhantomStrider has to do with Happy Tree Friends!?!

You do know the characters don't talk right?

WTF!?!

How is this supposed to be scary?

#crappypasta #qoute #happy tree friends #what is this #crossover

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inmyarmswrappedin · 4 years ago

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Episode 19. Okay, guys, this was an excellent season. Thanks for watching along with me.

Aisha’s been up all night cramming for the math exam. The wake-up alarm rings, and she turns it off with a smile, and then stretches in her chair.

As Aisha is getting ready to go to the exam, she runs into her mother. Her mom asks if she’s going to school, and when she says yes, her mom sounds more affectionate than she’s been the past few days. Aisha realizes this is a good moment to apologize. She says she’s sorry for making her mom worry, says she didn’t mean to. Her mom accepts the apology and gives Aisha her phone back for being a good daughter!

As Aisha rides the train to Oslo, we see Emrah going back to his place. Then we get shots of Aisha doing the exam, while Emrah examines his passport. Emrah also packs a bag. When he opens one of his drawers, he finds a Kinder egg capsule. He’s surprised to find one of those toys you have to build inside. Aisha must’ve left it there when she stayed the night. Emrah empties the capsule (without building the toy!!) and leaves his apartment.

Aisha texts Jamilah and Freba after the exam. She thinks she did really well! She goes back home, it seems that Yusuf is there alone. She asks where their parents are, and Yusuf says they’re away (I think at a friend’s). He still sounds a little upset. Aisha lays it on him. She’s not studying law right now. Her grades weren’t good enough to get into law. (As a Spaniard, this isn’t at all relatable to me, because Law is one of the degrees with the lowest entry grade lol.) But she’s taken the exam again, and she did really well! Yusuf doesn’t have much of a reaction... He’s just like, “But you’ve been at school so much?” Aisha says she’s been going to Sonans, which appears to be some kind of private school that helps prepare students for uni admission tests. And because this is a private business, and not free like uni, she’s been working as much as she can so that she could pay the fees. She didn’t want to ask their parents for money for this, since it wasn’t their fault Aisha didn’t get a good grade in maths the first time around.

Aisha waits a beat, and then asks Yusuf how come he’s not screaming. Lmao. Yusuf says he doesn’t have a job. There we go! I thought it was so sus that he’d go back to his parents’ place when he’d been living abroad. He doesn’t manage a lot of artists. All his clients left him, so he went back to Norway and he’s been sending resumes and applications. This explains so much. Yusuf was so down on himself for “failing”, so he was even harder on Aisha because, as far as he knew, Aisha had so much more to lose than he did, studying law but dating Emrah, etc.

Yusuf asks Aisha why she doesn’t trust him. He says he can’t back her up if she doesn’t tell him anything. Aisha says she’d like to trust him, but she can’t when he threatens to tell their parents about Aisha’s shit whenever she does anything he doesn’t like. She jokes that she’s going to tell their parents about Yusuf not having a job. But then she sits next to him and she says he’s not like his friends say. He’s a good brother and he’s been taking really good care of her. Yusuf just has to stop treating her like a four year old, and they have to trust each other.

Emrah then texts Aisha to meet at 5. Yusuf asks if that’s Emrah, and Aisha says yes. Yusuf says to go meet Emrah, and he’ll cover for Aisha. So we get a scene where Aisha puts a lot of work into her appearance, with a nice top, Chanel’s earrings (! girl I miss you) and necklaces.

She and Emrah meet, and hug. I feel like Aisha is a bit overdressed compared to Emrah tbh lol. But anyway, Emrah then takes Aisha to some building, and he says one of his friends lives there. Aisha is extremely creeped out. She doesn’t want to go in or to walk up the stairs or anything. Emrah says to wait behind a door for a second, but of course, we know Aisha would never not barge into a situation headfirst lol. Behind the door, there’s a terrace. It’s empty. Aisha looks over the railing as if to check whether Emrah jumped lmao.

Emrah is actually on a higher level. He tells Aisha he told her to wait, but now she can just climb up the ladder. Aisha tells Emrah he’s so weird, but climbs up regardless. It turns out that Emrah remembered when they looked over Oslo at Ekeberg. Abdi lives in this building, and I guess he gave Emrah access to the rooftop, where he and Aisha can now have a nice view of Stovner, the neighborhood where AIsha has felt so trapped. There’s also a blanket and pillows, it’s all very sweet.

Emrah tells Aisha that is going to go away for a year. He can’t say what he’s going to do, but when he comes back, the debt will be repaid and he’ll be free. And what he’ll be doing shouldn’t hurt anyone, except perhaps himself. I don’t like this, I really wish Emrah didn’t have to go away. 😞 Why won’t Bigmac be arrested instead? But anyway, Emrah is fidgeting a bit. Aisha asks him if he’s okay, and Emrah says he’s cold. However, he’s also nervous, which we know because of what he does next. He gives Aisha the Kinder egg capsule. When she opens it, there’s a fucking ring inside lol. Aisha makes the funniest face, it’s like 😕. She looks over at Emrah, and he is kneeling! He asks her to marry him!

Aisha’s like, “no.” Gvhvhv. And she says Emrah doesn’t even want to get married. Emrah admits this is true. He just wanted to offer Aisha an out since she didn’t feel free at her parents’. Aisha says she doesn’t want to get married just to be free. Then she asks if Emrah stole the ring gvhv. She says, you have a debt so how can you buy a ring? Emrah says the ring is his mom’s, so he didn’t steal it. They laugh at how Emrah proposed marriage when they’re not even together.

Emrah says that when he was in jail, thinking of Aisha made it all so much easier. So he didn’t like that Aisha saw him like that in his apartment, talking about the panic attack. But, he’s also glad, because even after that, Aisha is still here. He says Aisha is his very best friend. Aisha says she’d never been in love before Emrah, not like this. Because Emrah always accepted her for who she is, even if she’s preachy and bossy. Emrah says maybe it’s best like this, they don’t have to be together. Aisha lays her head on Emrah’s upper arm and says he can always ask her for help, because even big, strong, tough guys need help sometimes, right? Emrah agrees. Then Aisha sticks her head under his arm, so that Emrah wrap his arm around her shoulders. Aisha says Stovner looks really nice from here. Emrah praises Stovner.

Then follows some aesthetic shots of Stovner, without people. And finally, a series of medium and close up shots of young people from Stovner. Boys and girls of different ethnicities, a couple wearing head coverings.

I think 17/18/16/19 was a show that was always committed to do justice to Stovner kids. In many ways, Abdi, Emrah, Ibo and Aisha (Yusuf, Jamilah, Freba...) embody stereotypes ascribed to second generation kids from poorer neighborhoods. But throughout this season, I always felt that, like Aisha said, the camera accepted Aisha for who she was. Even when she behaved badly or talked shit. I feel like this season (and probably the whole show, but I haven’t watched those seasons yet) showed characters who struggle to get by, who don’t have it so easy because they’re not wealthy or white or live in a really nice neighborhood. But these characters are ultimately just people who want to be happy and make things better for themselves and others, even in little ways like not burdening their parents with added debt. I think the 17-verse cared deeply for its characters, and so I find it hard to find a flaw. Because I don’t think it sought to judge the characters, or even the characters that the mains dislike. (Like uncle and Mohammed, for instance!)

One thing I’ve read a lot when it comes to representing minorities, it’s that the media should portray the joys along with the struggles. It shouldn’t be all struggle all the time, in order to make white (straight, cis) viewers feel pity. I think the shots of Stovner and Stovner people did just that. Show the joy, shyness, happiness of these teenies when they’re asked to pose for a TV series.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the season, and thanks for reading these posts. 💛

#17 nrk

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emilykinesis · 4 years ago

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a lesson on how NOT to be white

tumblr user maidsonas (twitter user franielkun) demonstrates how not to be white. step one:

this is for context. i’m not... any of these things. so i can’t speak on that. but after that, the trouble starts.

this is like. the worst response you can possibly give. HOW is this ok?? how do you even begin to be this much of a racist dick? the ask is pretty polite, too, all things considered.

let’s move on.

???.... um.... one of the most lukewarm “apologies” i’ve ever seen. another!!

.... do you though? you haven’t really explained. OR, UM, APOLOGIZED!!!! you ONLY apologized for the DISMISSIVE ANSWER YOU GAVE that WASN’T an apology OR an understanding!!!

FINALLY, step 4, after MULTIPLE POLITE ASKS:

WAIT THAT STILL ISN’T REALLY AN APOLOGY. WHAT THE FUCK.

but it gets better kids.

so.

let’s break this down.

to me, a white person? the word “wasian” DEFINITELY looks... iffy. something i, a WHITE PERSON MUCH LIKE FRAN, should NOT be using. here is, presumably (for the moment) a mixed-race asian person telling a white person not to use this word. fran has used this word several times on twitter aswell.

what do we think about this response? well, to me, it SOUNDS ABOUT WHITE.

so let’s see the fallout from this.

“i’ve heard nothing but positive feedback.” okay. so, this is criticism. positive feedback does not make you immune to criticism. ALSO, STILL NOT APOLOGIZING. AT ALL. NOWHERE IN THIS ASK OR THE PREVIOUS DID THEY APOLOGIZE. AT ALL.

do you get it? do you, fran?

so now. FINALLY. the previous anon fires back. and they are rightly PISSED.

ok. so. let’s break this down. they admit RIGHT HERE that they have ONLY HEARD IT USED BY MIXED ASIANS TO DESCRIBE THEMSELVES. YEAH. ....and then you just decided to use it? what the fuck is wrong with your head!? and “i had no idea it was offensive?” THEY JUST FUCKING TOLD YOU AND YOUR ANSWER WAS “are you sure??????”

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, CHILD.

the saga doesn’t end here, though. here’s a tweet they posted shortly after this debacle.

so. first off. asking a question THEY’VE BEEN GIVEN THE ANSWER TO, TWICE, BY A MIXED-RACE ASIAN PERSON. obviously this is just speculation, but to me? kinda seems like they’re looking for a bone to be thrown and for someone to offer them a nice “no no you’re okay! that anon didn’t speak for all of us!” furthermore, the apology should be THE FIRST THING IN THE TWEET, and it SHOULDN’T be a “sorry if i offended anyone.” it should be “i’m sorry.” PERIOD. FOR USING A WORD YOU WERE TOLD WAS OFFENSIVE.

BUT WAIT, THERE’S STILL MORE. a sweet apology from an unrelated party uwu:

granted this isn’t on fran, it’s on the anon. i don’t know if this anon is actually a mixed-race asian or not. BUT. they are wrong. yes, people should be informed. but you know what fran did when they were informed? THEY ASKED “are you sure???????” TO A MEMBER OF A MARGINALIZED GROUP. AND IT TOOK THEM TWO MORE ASKS TO EVEN APOLOGIZE. nope, sorry. anon was TOTALLY in their rights to be upset.

some additional ways on how to NOT be white:

haha what a funny word!! hahahaha it’s so funny i didn’t even look it up or ask any real mixed asian people if it was derogatory hahaha!!

unfortunately. there is even more.

granted, these aren’t directly related to the rest of the incident. but they’re some “”fun”” extracurricular learning activities on further ways to not be white.

i call this one “do as i say, not as i do”:

also known as a subset of performative activism. another great example of performative activism is this!

i... don’t even think i really need to explain how weird this is, but seeing as fran apparently saw nothing wrong with it, i’ll try. “sobbing in my mother’s arms.” if you did that, great. why tell the world about it? why, AS A WHITE PERSON, would you make this big, grandiose post about just how HORRIBLE it is for YOU, a WHITE TEENAGER, to see these TERRIBLE things?? how it’s taking such a DEVASTATING TOLL on YOUR mental health?

in closing: if you are white. please don’t be like this. don’t pour all your energy into preachy and performative shows of fake-wokeness and then DISMISS ACTUAL WORRIES from ACTUAL POC.

oh. and one more tweet of theirs. from. today. note the kakyoin ask from above and how they decry “wanting attention.”

that will be all.

...for now. truthfully, this person has done more shitty things, but i wanted to keep this post mainly about their hypocrisy, performative activism, and good old blatant white liberal racism.

and i really don’t think i should have to remind anyone of this, but don’t harass this person. that won’t get anyone anywhere. simply block, don’t interact, and most importantly, DON’T DO SHIT LIKE THIS.

#politics #racism #maidsonas #franielkun #personal #long post #srs #serious

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the-other-art-blog · 4 years ago

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Finished Gossip Girl. I have mixed feelings...

I don’t belong to the 1% of the population this series tries to portray. Man, I’m so far from that. Actually, I would be closer to Dan’s kind of people. I went to expensive schools because I got scholarships.

I was able to be around Gossip Girl kind of people. It’s horrible. Especially in junior high school (secundaria, between 12-15 years old), I wanted to kill them. They were just mean. I was never friends with them. And there is a feeling of inferiority when you see all the things they have, and you just know your parents are never going to afford them. It’s stupid, I know, but at 14 years old, it felt like it meant everything. And there were some moments where I even got mad at my mother for making me go where I didn’t belong. So when Jenny Humphrey told her dad that he can’t just send her with simple clothes (I don’t actually remember what she said there, but it was something like that) to a school like that, I got her. High school and university got even more expensive, and classmates were richer. Eventually, everyone gets past that. I did. But it’s hard growing up with those people.

To me, GG reminded me to that phase of my life and it wasn’t pretty. And I might sound preachy, but I don’t think it was good idea letting impressionable girls watch that show or anyone really. Blair Waldorf was a bitch, she genuinely believed she was a queen and treated everyone as garbage. No one was enough for her. I was naive enough to believe that NYU would do good on her, that she would become a better person. Instead, she got Columbia! She deserved to be in NYU, where she was rejected and trashed. Get a taste of her own medicine until she changes or cracks. She deserves it! Not even after she fell for Dan was she able to show respect. That’s why she never had one single friend, only minions and enemies. I hope this serves as a warning to whoever wants to be like Blair. Characters with a bitchy side are fun, up to a point. Blair went way beyond that.

But she not alone! NO ONE EVER PAYS THE CONSEQUENCES FOR THEIR ACTIONS. Not even Dan who made their lives miserable. Serena claims to be the best, the most honest, empathic and nice, but she’s as spoiled and cruel as Blair.

Also, why the hell are Serena and Blair friends? They hate each other. That’s not a healthy relationship. They constantly hurt each other and compete against one another. You’re angry that Amy March burned Jo’s book?? Hell these two played with each other boyfriends, Serena plays an important part in Blair losing Yale, they cause scenes and expose the other’s deepest secrets and more. And they still get the happily ever after???

And Lily! She sent an innocent man to jail so that her drug addict/alcoholic/shallow/mean daughter would be re-accepted in Constance. Oh but when Carol does something, then she does deserve to go to jail. What a hypocrite! Of course she was after the money.

I guess it’s realistic. Life is not that fair. Those people don’t deserve trust-funds.

What is not realistic at all is their behavior. Those are not teenagers. They go to bars all over the city? They inherit multi million dollars companies at like 18 years old? Why don’t you just situated them at college and go from there. I suppose the last two seasons they have already graduated?? They don’t show them at school anymore so... It’s just not believable.

I’m sorry, but I once said Little Women is too preachy, but I would definitely prefer that than GG and its loose morals.

Ultimately, I enjoyed the first couple of seasons. The next seasons were more of a soap opera for me, with people coming back from death. Bart Bass’ second death was so ridiculous. I even thought it was a dream because of the dramatic music. I fast forward a lot of scenes.

It’s good entertainment, just don’t take these people as role models.

Oh one more thing. This shows reminded of a bunch of songs I have forgotten about, so kudos for that!

#sorry for comparing Little Women to Gossip Girl #but that's my current obssession #gossip girl #final thoughts #blair waldorf #chuck bass #serena van der woodsen #dan humphrey

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hoe-doroki · 4 years ago

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ana reads bnha ch50

previous chapter here first chapter here next chapter here

I got a little preachy and I’m not sorry

Wow, I don’t know if this is different for other people, but all I can say is that, before I could drive, I didn’t know how to get anywhere that wasn’t in my town. The grocery store? Got it. Target? Got it. The movie theatre in the next town over? ABSOLUTELY DO NOT HAVE IT. Had to print out those old mapquest directions. Very impressive, Midoriya. You don’t just know hero things.

I titled this png “manual love” and that sounds like something else...

Can I just say how much I LOVE Manual? It’s amazing that he’s able to see what Iida is up to, first of all, and then having the guts to call him on it is no easy feat. And he does it in such a caring way! He really sees Iida as his ward and wants to take full responsibility for him. He just seems like such a sweet guy, and a good little hero. I wish we got to see more of him.

This immediately makes me think of Hannah Gadsby’s comedy special, Douglas, on Netflix where she says: “We are not preparing our boys for the real world.” I’m not saying that violent anger is purely a male issue, surely not, but, I mean, we know. That’s the full line, actually: “Know what “boys will be boys” means? It means we are not preparing our boys for the real world. It means we know.”

Look, I won’t pretend to be an expert on masculinity in Japanese culture. I won’t even pretend to be an expert in it in American culture. But we know a lot about Iida. We know that he has a strong affinity for categorizing things in the world in boxes and that he’s most comfortable when he can sort things into right and wrong in that way. And, since he comes from a legacy of heroes, I think it’s fair to assume that Iida has grown up with a lot of ideas about masculinity, justice, and controlling one’s emotions. All of that has led him to be the person who he is here when he can’t control his rage, and can’t see talking it out with any of the growing list of people who have noticed his pain and offered to talk as an option. I’m not saying that everything would be solved if we could socialize boys better to talk out their emotions instead of punching them out, but surely things would be better. I mean, we’ve got similar issues with Bakugou. Even Todoroki and Kirishima’s responses to Bakugou’s kidnapping, and Deku too!—I know that this is their ‘hero’ characterization, but these boys have had their minds trained to think that only action is good enough. Anything that isn’t direct action is the equivalent to not doing anything.

Also:

Same thing. Btw, I unironically love Arthur.

Okay, we need to have a talk. Native. That’s the name of this hero. And he’s obviously based off of Native Americans. Look, it’s not my place to hold a Japanese man responsible for knowing this is offensive. No, we Americans* need to hold responsibility for this. Horikoshi can easily look over at us and see our sport’s teams, our depiction of Thanksgiving, our treatment of indigenous people and think, oh cool aesthetic. They make neat Halloween costumes. I think I’ll make a hero like that. Why wouldn’t he think that?

But, of course, this is offensive. The costume bears a feather in the headdress which, I believe, typically denotes rank. Like, that would actually mean something to a tribe. But it appears to me that there’s kind of a hodgepodge of different tribal elements here, all combined to make kind of a generic “Native American” look. And, to add insult to injury, this character is here just to be nearly slaughtered. Not given any importance outside of his near death. When Native Americans already have to suffer through the legacy of being a people who were slaughtered. Yeah, it’s not good. But we have no one to blame but ourselves, really.

*Not only Americans, but also Canadians, Central and South Americans, and Australian/Oceanic people.

Overall: Yes, I realize that people on tumblr don’t appreciate all this discourse but, hey, these posts aren’t intended to grow my popularity or anything. At best, they open up conversation, at worst, they’re just me talking into the void. But yeah, this chapter is heavy. Everything that Iida’s going through is super heavy and, idk, we see so many extreme vigilante situations in fiction that I just need to call it out for what it is. The culture that it’s reflecting. Because media reflects culture, right? Not everyone’s gonna go out to try and kill their brother’s would-be murderer with their bare hands, but a lot of people are gonna be like that Arthur meme and punch their little sister for breaking a toy.

Aside from that…you guys know I’m excited. This is the fight I’ve been waiting for. I’m so psyched. This chapter, when it’s not pissing me off, gets me super hyped. I can’t wait for the next chapter!

#ana reads the manga #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia

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storyweaverofgondor · 4 years ago

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Looking for a new book to read

I have been having some trouble finding any books i like recently so i thought I’d put this out there. These are entirely my personal opinions about what i enjoy and are not intended to offend. Be aware they are very strong opinions. There is no time limit on this. I am always interested in checking out new books. Please help a girl out!

Update: I only know how to read English. so keep that in mind. I don’t mind translations tho!

Things i like:

Size matters not. but i do like them long. I’m a fast reader so 100 pages doesn’t usually last that long.

Series or single book. all are good.

Intended age range doesn’t matter. good stories are not age restrictive.

I don’t care how old the book is. it could be 500 years old or more. I don’t mind! :)

Preferred genre: Fantasy Adventure. am also interested in Supernatural, Sci-fi and Action.

I also adore “Falling into another world” stories.

I like hero type protagonists. i actually want to like the people I’m supposed to root for.

I like found family stories and stories that features strong friendships

LGBTQ+ is fine. I haven’t read a lot of it but I’d like to.

I don’t mind if the character breaks the law as long as they are still a good person (I.e. Aladdin, Leverage or Robin Hood)

I don’t really care about the gender of the main characters. i don’t need them to be the same gender as me to enjoy them.

I don’t really care about the race of the main characters. real human types or fantasy/sci-fi species, I’m cool with any of them.

I enjoy a good bit of karma.

I don’t mind whump. I’m a whump fiend!

Things I’m iffy on (A.k.a I don’t hate them but I’m very picky.):

Horror is iffy. I enjoyed Dracula and the Resident Evil books but i don’t like being scared or paranoid.

Mystery is iffy since i am very picky and they tend to suffer from what i call the Jessica Fletcher Curse (If you are curious about what this dm me for an annoyed rant about this aggravating trope)

Historical fantasy isn’t really my thing. Most of them spend a chapter just talking about the clothes or rigidly stick to historical events without actually establishing a plot. This does not include “Period Stories” however which involve a story that takes place during a particular time. those i am willing to give a try.

I don’t mind Tragdies but i don’t want them to be depressing.

I’m not overly found of military protagonists. They tend to fall into the slot of “This person is in the military. that makes them a hero.” which . . . I’m sorry. But being on the side of the law does not make you a good person and breaking it doesn’t make you evil. This just doesn’t vibe with me.

I am not particularly interested in modern day/settings. I live in a “modern setting”. unless something really cool and fantastical happens why would i want to read about it?

I am not to fond of political drama. A little intrigue is fun and adds a bit of spice and depth. but i don’t like politics in real life and would rather not see it in my stories.

I can enjoy books with a conservation undertone but I’m really picky and would prefer a light hand instead of a heavy one.

I don’t mind morally gray characters but i do still want them to be likeable (i.e. Jack Sparrow, Catwoman)

I don’t mind cursing but I am not a fan of serious cursing. Maximum one serious curse word in the heat of battle or like character just panickedly repeating a serious curse word over and over while everything is falling apart is fine. Drat, darn and heck don’t really resonate as curse words for me so i’m fine with those being said however much someone likes.

Things i don’t like (I get a bit ranty here. sorry about that):

I strongly dislike “This Character is gay and they are made up of Gay Characteristics” type characters. but that stems mostly from my dislike of “This Character is in love and we aren’t going to develop them beyond that. Here’s a bunch of mushy moments.” type characters. Being in love - or in lust as is the most common type of relationship - is not a personality trait in my opinion.

I dislike Romance. In a fairy tale setting or mixed in as a subplot is fine. but i strongly dislike American Romantic Comedies or anything else with a strong focus on romance since i tend to find them unbearably bland and the relationships are often unspeakably shallow.

I dislike stories involving racism or injustice or any other social inequality motivated story. It makes me very upset when i see this in real life and since books are my escape from reality i prefer not to read stories about it.

I dislike preachy books. Like Fern Gully; it’s a very pretty movie. But it was just too preachy for me to enjoy.

I dislike books that strongly feature detailed sexy times or describe private parts. not my thing. XP

I dislike talking books. If it spends a whole chapter with people just talking and it doesn’t move the plot forward or involves some deliciously clever banter? I’ll never bother to finish the book.

I dislike books that at any point mention “one’s place”. It really makes me grit my teeth.

I hate awkward or embarrassing moments or humiliation. nothing turns me off of a story quicker.

Nothing like Game of Thrones. Fantasy setting and Dragons? Yes! Everything else? No, thank you!

If it sounds like it could be a Hallmark movie get it away from me! Hallmark Movies are the devil! *Hisses like a cat* EVIL!EVIL!EVIL-LEE!

I welcome any and all suggestions! :D

#book suggestions #Book Suggestion Tag #If you have any questions about anything I've written dm me #Your girl is a bookworm who can't find any good books #i could use some help #And yes I quoted Mermaid Man when talking about Hallmark movies

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staticscreenwriting · 5 years ago

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To the stars beyond the blue - one

Summary: Kathleen Sawyer has a problem with authority and people telling her what to do, especially if “people” is her Stepdad Dave. Having had enough of her attitude, Dave and her mom decide it’s time for her to leave behind the temptations of New York City and learn some responsibility while staying with her aunt Susan in small, sleepy Hawkins, Indiana. Though what neither of them know, is that the biggest temptation is waiting for her right there and it comes with a mullet and a killer smile.

This is gonna be an 18+ series. I’m planning to add quite a bit of smut, swearing and topics that could potentially be triggering to some people (domestic abuse - physical and emotional). The abuse will not be romanticized, I promise you that. Just be aware that these themes will be mentioned and explored.

next chapter >>

Chapter one - meet Kathleen

Ron’s Deli smells like old grease and cigarette smoke and the fluorescent lights send a loud buzzing noise through the entire place. There’s an assortment of sandwiches displayed, though I know better than to order any of them. Coffee, that’s what I’m here for. Coffee and warmth.

My boots, still wet from the snow covering the streets outside, make a squeaking sound against the linoleum floor that alerts Ruby who’s slumped over the counter, flicking through some kind of fashion magazine.

“ Haven’t seen you in a while “ she murmures, eyes focusing back on the magazine, making no attempt to actually take my order.

“ Some of us actually work, you know “ I reply. That’s not even close to the truth and Ruby knows this just as well as I do. But neither of us acknowledges it because that’s not the relationship we have. I don’t want to talk about it and she doesn’t care. So we settle for superficial quips.

“ Bite me, Kathleen. “

“ Nah thanks, you know my rules. No food at Ron’s. Just coffee “

“ Just coffee “ she repeats then turns around and grabs the pot and pours me a big mug of steaming hot coffee.

“ Thanks. Put it on my tab. “

She always nods but never actually does. I don’t think I’ve paid for my coffee in years.

I drag myself towards my booth in the furthest corner of the place. I call it my booth but if we’re being overly correct I have to mention that I do, in fact, not have ownership of this particular booth. It’s just the one I always find myself in. Have done so for years.

The tv mounted up in the corner is playing some black and white christmas movie. The volume is too low to hear anything being said but I can tell the movie after a few seconds. Miracle on 34th street. I remember watching it with my dad when I was a kid. He was always big about old black and white movies.

I never told him but I don’t really like it. There’s a thing about Christmas movies where even though most of them have happy endings, a lot of them always make you feel miserable for a huge amount of the runtime. It’s like “look at this sad person ON CHRISTMAS. Then remember how lucky you are. Because you too could be sad. ON CHRISTMAS “.

It’s very preachy and if I’m being honest, I don’t see the appeal of movies that purposely make me sad.

Back then I wasn’t really aware of what it feels like to be sad on Christmas. I do now. It’s like they describe it in the movies only 10 times worse. Because there’s no happy ending waiting for you after 120 minutes. It just goes on and leads to a sad new years and a sad spring and a sad summer.

“ Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind... “ oh fuck right of, Kris you absolute bullshitter.

The bell above the door pulls me from my Christmas blues and I watch a couple stumble into the shop. They’re smiling, holding hands. The dude can’t seem to keep his lips of her neck. She walks up to the counter. I can only imagine Ruby’s annoyed sigh and the roll of her eyes.

“ Hi, two turkey delis please “ the girl says between giggles. I feel kinda bad for her. She must be a tourist. Locals know not to eat at Ron’s. Only coffee. Iced tea in the summer. That’s it.

Ruby grumbles something to them before they settle down in the booth across from me. Well there goes me sulking in silence. I try to ignore their loved up giggles as the warm coffee makes its way down my throat. I really try not to pay them any attention. But once I notice his hand squeezing her boobs, that’s enough to make even me uncomfortable.

I take one last sip then scoot out of the boot hand walk towards Ruby. She’s resorted from flipping through the magazine to using the magazine as a underlay while she paints her nails right there on the counter. Another reason not to eat here.

“ So what do you say, do I suit this color ? “ She asks and holds a hand out for me to see. She always paints them red, every single time. Apparently they’re all different shades though so far I’ve been unable to see even the slightest difference.

“ Sure. “

“ Thanks for the enthusiasm.”

�� You’re welcome. Anyway, I’m going to head out. Thanks for the coffee. “

Ruby looks up again then throws a disapproving look at the couple that is pretty much dry humping each other at this point “ did the lovebirds scare you off ? Disgusting. “

“ Let them be, they’re in love. “

She scoffs at that then goes back to her nails “ of course you’d think that. You’re just as bad. “

“ What does that mean ? “

“ Means I’ve seen you at parties. With guys. It’s uh — quite something really. “

“ Ah shut up, Ruby. “ I say and roll my eyes. It’s none of her business really. Though I know it doesn’t come from a place of malice, her words still rub me the wrong way. I have to remind myself that she’s just bitter. She should be married right now, living with her husband in some cute little house in Jersey, popping a few kids and living the suburban dream. Instead he fucked her sister at the rehearsal dinner and she’s left alone, bitter, sad and working at a really shitty deli.

“ Just sayin’ “

“ Mmh. Anyway tell your dad I said hi and to call me if he ever feels lonely. “

“ You’re vile. “

I only smile at that, pull my jacket closer around my body and step into the cold december air.

New York City is always busy. Always. People crowd the streets like ants on a popsicle forgotten on the lawn in a hot summer’s day. Though around christmas time, it feels like twice as many people flock to the city to catch a glimpse of what the perceived to be the ultimate manifestation of christmas magic.

The truth is, it’s cold and loud and crowded and if anything, it’s a perfect reminder just how materialistic we humans really are. If there’s anything to advertise, you’ll get it advertised here. They try to appeal to your innermost romantic. That girl that believes diamonds and flowers are a sign of true love. That kid that still holds faith in santa and miracles.

It makes me a little sick as I pass store after store, bustling with holiday shoppers.

The further I walk the colder it gets. I tug my beanie further down my head, trying to keep my ears warm as I hop down the steps of the subway station. There’s an older man playing the violin while wearing a santa hat. I toss him a quarter and he gives me a smile and I feel like I’ve just earned a few karma points. Shiny gates, I’m coming for you.

It’s early december and New York is fucking freezing. It’s an all consuming kind of cold. The one you feel seeping through your body all the way to your bones. I wish I could say it goes away once I’m home and snuggled up in my bed. It doesn’t. It’s the kind of cold that stays with you.

There’s a man eying me as I step on the train, he’s got bushy unkempt eyebrows and a mean mustache. His tongue licks at his bottom lip every few seconds. Like a deranged snake or something, only way creepier. I try to avoid eye contact. Eye contact it seems only works as a silent invitation to guys like him.

From the corner of my eye I take notice of all his moves though. One has to be prepared always. I grab a hold of my keyes, let them stick out between my knuckles. I don’t know if he notices. I hope he does.

When the train pulls up at my stop, my heart speeds up a little. A silent mantra echoes through my head “please don’t get up. Please don’t get up.” It’s one thing being tough and brave when you’re in a train with many other people. It’s a whole different story when you’re passing through dark, deserted alleyways on your way home.

The trains stops and I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans. He eyes me again as I step up to the doors. I’m still avoiding eye contact but at this point I can tell that he can tell. I can just about make out as his lips pull into a smirk. There’s nothing amusing about this situation, not to me at least. To think that he finds joy in this makes me physically sick.

The doors open and I step outside, a gust of cold wind hitting my face. I turn around and the doors close behind me and, to my delight, I can see him sitting in the same spot, looking at me through the dirty window of the train. He winks as the train pulls away and I can feel my lunch making its way up my throat again.

I can hear them yelling as I unlock the door. Dave’s voice thunders through the place, spewing expletives and hatred.

“ Jesus Christ, Joan. What is wrong with you? Spending money on shit we don’t need but the one thing, the one thing I asked you to buy, you forget ? Are you really that fucking dumb ? “

My blood starts boiling though I know better than to step in. It only makes it worse.

Mom says sorry. So many times. Too many times. Her voice is timid and small and I hate that this is what he turns her into. When I was little mom was strong and brave and happy. She was creative and fun and adventurous. Now she’s but a shell of herself. An obedient little housewife who settles for a man that treats her like absolute dirt.

They look up at me as I enter the kitchen room and I can see fear in my mom’s eyes. I think that’s the worst thing. To see your mom scared. No kid should have to see their mom this scared. I wish I didn’t.

“ Hi. “

“ Look who’s finally decided to show up. Where’ve you been ? “ Dave scoffs. He thinks just because my mom spreads her legs for him, he gets any say in what I do. Truth is, he doesn’t give a fuck what I do, he’s just a sucker for control. It’s like his ultimate wet dream, to have us do exactly how he says and behave just the way he asks us to.

“ Out. “

“ Out where ? “

“ None of your business. “

“ Kathleen “ mom scolds me. I know she has this fantasy of us three living like a perfect family, all happy and joyful. Smiling at each other as we sit around the dinner table talking about our days before we settle on the couch to watch Happy Days.

That’s not reality though. Reality looks pretty bleak right now. Reality is absolute bullshit.

“ I was at the library, okay ? “

“ With a boy ? “

“ No, what the fuck are you on about. “

“ I know the kind of girl you are, Kat. I know girls like you. “

Girls like me.

Dude doesn’t know shit.

“ Sluts “ he spits out. I know he does it to rile me up. He’s just waiting for me to make a mistake so he can put me in my place and assert his dominance. God, he’s such an asshole.

“ Dave ! Don’t call her th— “ mom doesn’t get to finish the sentence before he smacks her across the face, a loud slapping noise echoing through the room. It never gets easier. Watching him hit her. Watching her excuse his actions. Watching them continue as normal.

“ I told you, to shut up, Joan. You know what happened with the boy. The man.“

I lock eyes with her, begging her to say something. Do something. End this misery. She has the power to do so. This is our apartment. Out food. Our money. She has all the power in the world and yet, when she averts her eyes, I know it means nothing.

Dave looks at me again then flops down on the couch, resting his feet on the couch table and clutching a beer in his meaty slob of a hand.

“ Ma, “ I approach her, wanting to comfort her. This is my mother and despite her flaws and issues, I love her. Sometimes I wonder if she returns the sentiment.

“ I’m okay. “

“ But you’re not!”

“ I said, I am okay. “ the look in her eyes gives me no room to argue. This conversation is over. This topic is over. For now.

Because those things are never really over, are they ?

I take a can of coke from the fridge then sit down on the bench by the window. The snow is softly falling outside and if I didn’t despise the cold so much, I’d even call it pretty. It’s a huge contrast to how things are inside right now. Snow falls slowly, piecefully. My mind is chaos, loud and crowded like Times Square on New Years.

I try to focus on my book and not on Dave who belches after every gulp of beer or my mom who’s perched on the corner of the couch, close enough for him to feel validated and yet far enough for her own comfort. I hate that this place doesn’t feel like a home anymore. It feels like a prison. Like a cage.

That annoying coke commercial comes on tv and I remember a christmas, many years ago. Dad sits in the recliner, we’re in our old apartment and it’s warm inside. The snow falls softly and the place smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. Mom is happily singing along to the commercial and dad’s placing a kiss on her head and it’s not a very important memory but it means so much to me. Because those christmases were good.

My eyes wander towards the shelf by the door, the one that holds a lot of things. Those kind of things you don’t know where else to put. There’s a bowl you’re supposed to put keys in, none of us ever do, and a sculpture I made in 4th grade art class. There’s random books and records and a cassette deck that doesn’t work anymore.

I look the shelf up and down, searching for the one thing in there that means something. The one thing I deliberately placed there because I wanted to see it every time I leave the house.

But it’s gone and my heart shatters.

“ Where’s the picture of dad ? “

“ Huh ? “ mom looks up at me. I can see it in her eyes. She heard me just right and she knows where it is.

“ The picture of dad on the shelf. Where is it ? “

“ It’s time to move on “ Dave chimed in with his throaty, dark voice. He sounds like he constantly has a meatball stuck in his gullet. It’s fucking disgusting. “ He’s been dead for years now. No use in grieving no more. “

Use in greiving ? Does he think we chose to be sad ? Does he really think I can just go and decide not to miss my dad anymore ? Not to be sad anymore ? Not to feel like my heart is bursting into a million little pieces whenever something reminds me of my dad ?

“ What did you do ? “

“ Put it where it belongs ? “

I can feel the hot red rage burning inside, behind my eyes, in the tips of my fingers.

“ What does that mean ? “

“ He’s gone, Kat. Get over it. I live here now and I don’t wanna be reminded of that fact that your ma had another man before me. It don’t matter no more, you’re my family now !” he bellows, getting off his ass and towering over me like a giant sequoia tree.

This man doesn’t know the first thing about being a family. I don’t know a lot about it either but I know this isn’t it.

“ Fuck you, Dave. Dad belongs here ! We’re his family, mom is his wife. You’re just some asshole she keeps around for god knows what reasons. Just a boyfriend, those come and go “.

He’s awfully silent at that. It’s scarier than the yelling and the mean words. Like he’s taking it all in, waiting, building. It’s gonna come crashing down on me in a minute, I just know it.

The snarl disappears and makes room for a smirk so unsettling, it freezes my blood right there in my veins.

“ Is that so ? Tell her Joan. “

“ Tell me what ? “ Oh god. Oh god, no.

“ Dave, this is not the ti— “

“ Tell her ! “ he yells and mom flinches then turns to me, eyes never once leaving the carpet.

“ Baby, Dave and I we — we decided it was time to take our relationship to the next level.”

No.

“ We’re getting married. “

“ No. “ I say, as if my opinion matters to anyone here. “ Mom, you can’t. You can’t do this. Mom “

I beg and I plead and I can feel the tears rising, hardly able to keep them at bay. I feel so small, so helpless.

“ We can and we will ! We’ve also talked about you … “ Dave starts and by the satisfied smirk on his face I can tell whatever he’s about to say, I won’t like it.

“ We had a long discussion about you and your behavior. The skipping school, the parties, the boys. It needs to stop. You need to learn some responsibility. Some respect. “

“ Mom. “ I try to meet her eyes, try to get her attention. This can’t be happening.

“ It’s for the best, baby. “

“ What is ? “

Dave takes over the conversation again. God I wish he would just disappear. Vanish into nothingness. Where he belongs. “ We think the city is no good place for a young woman to grow up. Too many distractions. Too many temptations. How could you ever become a proper wife growing up in this place. “

“ Are you saying you want to send me away ? “

Mom looks up at me finally, and I can see the pain in eyes. And for the first time, I am glad. I hope she’s hurting. I hope it rips her heart out. I hope she feels the same pain she did when dad died. Because this, this is on her. This is a conscious choice she makes. For herself. For me. For our family.

I hope it hurts her because it kills me.

“ I uh — I talked to Susan. You remember her, right ? My half-sister. She uh — she lives in this cute little town in Indiana. Lots of nature. It’s very picturesque she says. They have a house there, she and her husband and the kids. Her step son is your age. I think — I think It’d do you some good. Susan says he’s calmed down his temper since they moved. Maybe it will work for you. “

I want to say so much. I want to scream and cry and throw a tantrum but the pain I feel numbs me to my bones. It’s like all energy is sucked right out of me. I’m too exhausted to react. Too exhausted to fight back.

So I do what I do best. I run. Take my keys, my jacket, my bag. And I run out into the night. The snow. The cold.

Whatever is out there isn’t half as harsh as what’s waiting for me in this place.

I know I have to go back eventually but for now I need to get out and save myself from drowning in my own despair. In the picture of a family that is no family at all and the memories of what used to be.

As I walk down the street I pass a park. There’s a concert going on. A choir sings “ Have yourself a merry little christmas”.

I want to throw up. I do throw up, in the bin by the park bench.

Merry fucking christmas, Kathleen. I’m sure it’ll be a great one.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light From now on your troubles will be out of sight”

Absolute bullshit, my dudes. Absolute bullshit.

#billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #tothestarsfic

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mikauzoran · 6 years ago

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Adrienette Drabble Nineteen: Ice Cream

Coffee was extended into a walk down to the Seine, and as Adrien and Elise strolled, talking animatedly, they heard the iconic cry of André the ice cream man.

Elise visibly perked up, gaining another inch so that she almost stood as tall as Adrien.

“You want ice cream? After that grande vanilla bean frappuccino you just drank?” Adrien snickered. “Aren’t you worried about your girlish figure?”

“Stuff it. Curves are sexy, Candy Floss,” Elise snorted, grabbing his arm and tugging him towards the ice cream cart.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Adrien chuckled, deigning to be led.

André greeted them warmly and asked for their order.

“Surprise us,” Elise decreed, as excited as a wriggling child as she watched André scoop out three different flavors: cookies and cream, birthday cake, and cookie dough.

“For a sweet girl who deserves a sweet sweetheart,” André announced.

Elise gave a squeal of delight as she accepted her cone.

“He’s got your number,” Adrien teased.

“Leave my sweet tooth alone, Agreste.” Elise playfully stuck out her tongue at Adrien before putting it to work on the ice cream.

“And for the young gentleman?” André prompted.

Adrien shook his head. “You know best, André.” He fully expected to be given his usual.

André nodded. “Right now, it seems to me that you need this: lemon for his hair, mint for his eyes, and cherry for his lips.”

Adrien blinked owlishly as he exchanged the money in his hand for the ice cream cone. “Uhh…Thank you?”

“Be well,” André responded before turning to the next person in line.

Adrien and Elise took their ice cream and went to sit down with their feet dangling over the edge of the embankment with the river down below them.

“That was odd,” Adrien remarked. “Typically, I get Marinette-themed ice cream, but today…my true love is apparently a man with blonde hair, green eyes, and cherry lips.”

“Sounds like a hunk,” Elise giggled, happily lapping at her own sugar bomb. “I wouldn’t be complaining.”

Adrien shrugged. “Actually, I could definitely go for a Prince Charming right about now,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t mind if some hot guy wanted to sweep me off my feet and kiss it all better.”

Elise nearly choked on a cookies and cream chunk when she realized that Adrien was serious. “O-Oh?”

Elise’s brain conjured up the first green-eyed blonde male it could think of, and Elise had to admit that the image of Chat Noir kissing Adrien better was…not bad, to say the least.

“Actually working to rescue yourself from depression is hard,” Adrien continued obliviously. “If someone else could do the heavy lifting for me…I wouldn’t say no. Somehow, I don’t think that’s how this works, though.”

Adrien frowned, staring at his ice cream intently. “I typically like people with black hair and blue eyes. I don’t know what this is all about.” He gestured vaguely to the cone.

Elise squinted, studying the treat and looking back and forth between the cone and Adrien until it suddenly clicked. “Oh, Candy Floss. It’s you.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“It’s you,” Elise reiterated. “Your hair, your eyes, your lips… I think André was trying to tell you that you need to love yourself right now.”

Adrien stared at the ice cream pensively. It really was a distorted reflection of himself.

“Weeping angels,” he cursed softly. “I don’t want to have to love myself. I want someone else to do that for me.”

“I know you’re partially joking,” Elise hummed, voice low and reassuring. “but be serious with me for a minute?”

“Sure.” Adrien took a bite of the lemon ice cream on top.

“How is someone else going to love you if not even you love you?” she prompted.

“What is there to love?” Adrien asked in earnest. “But if anyone could do it, it would be Marinette.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Okay. Yeah. Marinette is a beast at everything she sets her mind to, but…come on. How is that fair?”

Adrien didn’t answer.

Elise let it go, seeing that she had made her point.

“…What does that even mean ‘love yourself’?” Adrien mumbled into his ice cream. “How do you ‘love yourself’? I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen that in real life before.”

“First off, you need to start being nicer to Adrien,” Elise announced, sending him a disappointed pout. “You’re such a jerk to him.”

Adrien gawked at his companion. “I don’t understand. I am Adrien.”

“And you’re a first-class jerk to Adrien,” Elise confirmed with a sage nod. “Think of it like this. Pretend that you’re two different people.”

“Done,” Adrien snickered.

“Okay. Would you ever tell another person ‘what is there to love about you’?” she inquired, leaving Adrien floored. “Would you say something like that to me?”

“No!” Adrien’s cheeks burst into flame. “No, absolutely not.”

“Then why is it okay for you to say things like that about yourself?” Elise challenged.

Adrien’s mind went blank. All he could come up with was “because it’s true”, but he didn’t think Elise would like that answer.

“You can’t think of a good reason, can you?” Elise nodded knowingly. “So watch what you think and say about yourself. Think of you as a person separate from yourself and be nicer. That will be your first assignment. After that…how do you express your love for others—romantic love or otherwise?”

Adrien thought for a moment. “Well, these past four months I’m doing a pretty lousy job, but…when you love someone, you buy them gifts and spend time with them. You tell them you love them. Is that what you mean?”

Elise nodded encouragingly. “Yes. That’s exactly it. You compliment the other person and you help take care of them. You do them favors and do thoughtful things for them just because. Those are the kinds of things you need to start doing for yourself, Adrien. That’s how you love yourself…and if you start loving yourself, maybe you’ll slowly come to like yourself too.”

Adrien scoffed reflexively. “Somehow, I doubt it. I’ve sort of become the kind of guy who deserves to be taken out back and shot recently. I don’t think it will be so easy to like me.”

Elise gave Adrien’s leg a swat. “Be nice. There you go again. You would never say something like that about another person.”

“But it’s true!” Adrien whined. “I’m kind of disgusted with myself as of late.”

“Okay,” Elise sighed, gathering her patience. She wished Marinette was there to explain this to him. She would be able to get through to him. “Here’s an example. If you thought someone was fat, would you say that out loud?”

“No.” Adrien scrunched up his nose.

“And what if I was a skank? What if I really was? Would you call me a skank to my face?” she demanded.

“…No.” Slowly the pieces were beginning to come together.

“Why not, if it’s the truth?” she pressed.

“Because you just don’t say things like that about other people,” Adrien muttered, realization dawning upon him. “Oh.”

“Yes!” Elise stressed in excitement for the breakthrough.

“So…I shouldn’t talk that way about myself either,” Adrien concluded.

“Yes,” Elise confirmed. “Be nice to yourself.”

“That…might take some practice,” Adrien murmured into his ice cream, licking up the side to keep it from dripping.

“I mean, you have time,” Elise informed.

Adrien nodded. “…Thanks…. How do you know this? Is this something they teach you somewhere, and I just missed out on the lesson because I was homeschooled, or…?”

Elise laughed, smiling sadly. “It’s something I had to learn myself. This one guy I was dating really messed me up. I wasn’t even in love with him or anything. I just…I had unrealistic expectations of relationships in general, and I ended up relying on him for my self-worth. It didn’t end well, and I kind of had to build myself back up from the ground level. It’s like what you’re doing. Marinette can’t be your everything. She may secretly be Superman, but she can’t support you in your entirety. You have to find your own happiness apart from her, your own value separate from being with her. You have to be able to be okay without her in order to be okay with her.”

Elise looked up with a bashful smile. “Sorry. Do I sound too preachy? It’s just…this is something I had to do for myself too, so I can’t help but see myself in you.”

“No.” Adrien shook his head vigorously. “Thank you. I think I really needed to hear that.”

Elise nodded, looking back out at the Ile de la Cité. “Good. I’m glad you think what I said was helpful. I know everyone’s case is different, so yours won’t work out in exactly the same way that mine did, but…I hope you eventually get there, Candy Floss. You’re a sweet kid, and I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you,” Adrien whispered. “…You’re really awesome…especially after how I messed up with you.”

Elise shrugged. “You’re young. Youth is a time to make mistakes, and at least you apologized for yours.”

“You say that like you’re not young anymore,” Adrien observed.

Elise shrugged. “I’m twenty-one. I feel old at the moment. I’ll feel like a kid again tomorrow. Age ebbs and flows. I think that’s part of growing up. I’ll be young so long as I can enjoy ice cream like this.”

“Until it gives you diabetes,” Adrien snickered with a wink.

Elise poked him with her elbow. “You know, that drives me nuts when people say that. That is NOT how you get diabetes. Diabetes is genetic. Cavities is what I need to be worried about.”

Adrien put up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, and she joined in.

The laughter died down, and Adrien bit his lip. “So…I don’t suppose you’re free this evening?”

“I don’t have anything planned. I was just going to put away two weeks’ worth of laundry so that I’m not living out of the laundry hamper. Why?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do you like Chinese food and anime? Marinette and I usually meet up for Chinese and anime on Saturdays, but…and I kind of miss that,” Adrien confessed. “I was wondering if you…?”

Elise considered for a moment. She had no problem with Chinese or anime, but…it was probably for the best if she avoided becoming a substitute. “Chinese food isn’t really my favourite, and anime…meh. I’ll tell you what, though. If you want to get sushi and show me a couple episodes of that Doctor Who show you were talking about, I thought that sounded interesting. How does that sound?”

Adrien’s face lit up. “That sounds awesome! Let me call my dad and make sure it’s okay for you to come over!”

Elise left around eight, refusing the offered ride and Adrien’s attempts to walk her home.

“I’ll text you in twenty minutes once I get there,” she chuckled, mussing his hair as she turned to go.

“Can I call you sometime?” he called after her at the gate.

She looked back at him with a puzzled expression. “You mean to hang out again?”

He nodded tentatively.

“Sure. I’ll get coffee and ogle David Tennant with you anytime!” she chuckled. “You can help me memorize all the internal organs for my exam too.”

“Deal!” he agreed enthusiastically.

Gabriel poked his head out of his office as Adrien shut the front door. “That was your ex-girlfriend?”

Adrien nodded. “Elise O’Leary. She’s great. She really helped out today. I had a lot of fun.”

Gabriel frowned. “Great…in a romantic way?”

Adrien laughed and shook his head. “Great in the sense that she’s a good friend. Completely platonic.”

Gabriel hummed. “Then I don’t have to be concerned about leaving you two alone in your room?”

“Nope,” Adrien confirmed. “The remaining shreds of my virtue are safe with Elise.”

Gabriel frowned even more deeply at the self-deprecating jest.

“Don’t make that face,” Adrien sighed. “I’m kidding. I haven’t slept with anyone, and I’m not going to. I’m only interested in Marinette.”

Gabriel pursed his lips. “You’re not considering dating anyone else?” he sought to confirm.

“No, Dad. I’m finished dating. I’m just spending time with friends now. I’m okay,” he assured.

Gabriel nodded slowly. “All right. That’s good to hear. You look okay.”

Adrien laughed. “Thanks. You look okay too. Goodnight, Dad. I love you.”

Gabriel smiled tentatively. “I love you too, Son.”

Adrien toweled off and pulled on his pajamas, padding across the expansive bathroom on his way to turn in early. He caught sight of his reflection in the massive mirror and stopped to consider himself.

He cleared his throat. “So…”

Compliments. He did this all the time. Why was this suddenly so hard?

“Just…be Chat Noir,” he coached. “…and talk to Adrien.”

He took a deep breath, let it out, and settled into character.

“Hey there, Handsome,” Chat purred, giving Adrien an appreciative once over.

Adrien frowned. “Handsome…isn’t really the best nickname.”

“Well, what do you want me to call you?” Chat sighed. “Beautiful? Hot Stuff? Beau Gosse?”

Adrien winced at the pet name Marinette usually used when she was in a teasing mood.

“How about Sweetheart? Does that sound sleazy?” Chat tried. “Hey there, Sweetheart. What’s a guy like you doing in a mansion like this?”

Adrien looked unimpressed and uncomfortable.

Chat frowned. “Sweet Prince?”

Adrien chuckled. “Like what Horatio calls Hamlet? ‘Goodnight, Sweet Prince’.”

Chat’s frown deepened in exasperation. “God, you’re difficult. How am I supposed to flirt with you if we can’t even get past pet names?”

“Were you supposed to be flirting with me?” Adrien wondered. “You’re supposed to be complimenting me.”

Chat shrugged dismissively. “Same thing. I’m supposed to be loving you—which you are making extremely hard. You know, I have a feeling that normal people don’t have to put this much effort into giving themselves compliments.”

Adrien averted his gaze. “God, I suck at this.”

Chat was silent for a minute or so as Adrien collected his thoughts.

“Hey,” Chat called softly. “Dri.”

It was an old nickname his mother and brother had used for him. El, Em, Fé, and Dri. Only Bridgette and Noëlle called him that now.

Adrien looked up.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Chat whispered. “Like verdant fields of young wheat. Your eyes are like spring, full of the promise of rich abundance, waiting to burst into bloom…. I’d like to be the one to make you bloom,” Chat added, voice low and silky and inviting.

Adrien giggled. “Chat Noir, you’d have to take me to dinner first. I’m not that easy.”

Chat rolled his eyes. “You play hard to get, but I know where all your buttons are.”

Adrien rolled his eyes in return. “What was the point of this exercise again? Were you supposed to be trying to get me into bed with you?”

Chat pursed his lips. “…No. Sorry. It’s just…it’s hard to give compliments without flirting, and I know I can push you harder than anyone without crossing a line when it comes to being suggestive, so…”

“It’s okay,” Adrien sighed. “So…I have beautiful eyes…. Try again?”

“Sure,” Chat easily agreed but then failed to continue.

“Well?” Adrien prompted.

“I’m thinking. This is hard,” Chat whined. “I mean…yeah. You look great. Plenty of people want to throw you down on a bed and use you up, but is that really a compliment? Does the fact that you’re sexually attractive give you self-worth? Doesn’t that just make you feel objectified?”

Adrien sighed. “I figuratively suck at this. I can’t even do positive self-talk right. Is it really so hard to say ‘Gosh, Adrien. You’re a really nice person. I like you.’?”

“You don’t think you’re a nice person,” Chat mumbled ruefully. “And I think that telling yourself that you suck is counterproductive.”

Adrien had no words with which to respond.

“Adrien?” Chat called, attempting to get them back on topic.

Adrien met Chat’s gaze in the mirror.

“I love you,” Chat whispered tenderly.

Adrien let out a weary laugh. “Liar,” he accused without heat.

Chat fell silent, a wounded expression casting a shadow over his face.

A stab of guilt got Adrien in the gut. Chat was trying. Adrien was not.

Adrien cleared his throat. “I…I like your jokes. You’re really funny.”

Chat looked up tentatively.

“I like that about you,” Adrien continued. “You make me laugh. I like that you’re goofy.”

Chat leaned in closer in interest. “Go on,” he purred.

“And you’re brave,” Adrien continued. “You’re always willing to sacrifice yourself for the sake of Paris. That’s really noble.”

Chat chuckled ironically. “We both know whom I’m really sacrificing myself for, and it has nothing to do with Paris.”

“Still,” Adrien argued. “Your dedication and willingness to take those hits is admirable. You are brave, regardless of your motivation. I like your bravery. You’re cool, and you do a good job of being a superhero. It’s not easy fitting in time to save Paris what with everything else going on in your life, so it’s actually super impressive that you make the effort to show up every time. I like your dedication.”

“I’m not the only one who’s dedicated, you know,” Chat softly reminded. “Mr. Fencing-Chinese-Piano-Basketball-Model-Superhero. You’re pretty impressive yourself.”

Adrien scoffed. “Yeah. Way to go me and my time management skills. Big deal,” he whispered sarcastically. “Especially when Nathalie does all the hard work of making the schedule.”

“Okay, but still. Maybe it is a big deal,” Chat reasoned. “I mean…not only do you do those things, but you’re actually pretty good at them too. Except maybe basketball. Because you’re so short.”

“I’m five-nine in shoes,” Adrien retorted. “That is a respectable height. I’m average height for a French male.”

“How tall are you without the shoes?” Chat snickered.

“Average height,” Adrien repeated defencively. “And I am good at basketball because I’m fast and I can jump. Aren’t you supposed to be making me feel good?”

Chat smirked hungrily. “If you want me to make you feel good, we’ll need to take this next door into your bedroom. I’m not opposed to doing this standing up, but…”

Adrien stared at Chat in disbelief. “Are you even serious? What is wrong with you?”

“I’m eighteen,” Chat pouted. “My hormones are maddening. It’s normal to think about sex all the time. Don’t pretend you’re all pure and innocent, Agreste.”

Adrien blushed, muttering down at the granite countertop. “At least have standards.”

“You meet my standards,” Chat teased.

“I don’t think we’re doing this loving ourselves thing right. It’s supposed to be about my self-esteem.” Adrien reached up to rub at the green remains of the bruises on his neck.

“At least you’re trying,” Chat encouraged. “At least you got out of bed today and did something fun. Just…keep trying, okay?”

Adrien took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. I can do this. I just…have to do the same things I do to show other people I love them.”

He looked up at his reflection and grinned. “Will you go out with me?”

Chat quirked an eyebrow. “Depends. Are you going to treat me better than you’ve treated your posse of girlfriends?”

“Yes,” Adrien promised. “I’m going to be so good to you. I’m going to tell you how wonderful you are and buy you flowers and pain au chocolat and manga. I’m not going to say mean things about you. I’m not going to be judgmental or hyper-critical or demanding. I’m…I’m going to take care of you.”

Chat looked dubious. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to try.” Adrien bit his lip. “Because I desperately want someone to love you. More than anything, I want someone to love you as much as I…” He gulped. “…I want someone to love you, so why not me? Why can’t it be me?”

“You’re the only one who’s stopping you,” Chat whispered.

“No more,” Adrien promised. “So will you go out with me? …I’ve always wanted to date a superhero.”

Chat laughed. “You and me both…. Okay. All right, Adrien Agreste. I’ll go out with you, but I reserve the right to dump you if you don’t keep your word.”

“Deal,” Adrien assured, leaning in to brush his lips to Chat’s.

The mirror was cold and unyielding against his mouth.

Adrien blinked, pulling back. He scrunched up his nose. “This is really, really silly,” he sighed.

“Yeah, but did it seem to help? Did it make you feel better?” his inner voice prompted.

“A little?” Adrien ran a hand through his still-damp hair.

“Then maybe you should keep doing it.”

“What? Talking to myself like a crazy person?” Adrien snorted.

“Talking to yourself like you are a person.”

Adrien studied his reflection, considering this for a moment.

Without replying, Adrien turned and headed into his bedroom. He needed to go for a run to clear his head. There hadn’t been an akuma attack in about a month, and Chat was itching to stretch his legs.

#Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Adrien Agreste #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir #Yes Really #Mikau's Writings #There's a Daisy

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nezzfiction · 6 years ago

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ENMY Chapter 88 - Operation Gun Dog

Chapter Synopsis: The Kingdom of Vacuo is about to enter its most daunting challenge, since the Third Crusade. Salem has personally come to see the end of some of Remnant’s greatest warriors, including Team ENMY. Assistance from Atlas is on its way, but will the Fleet arrive in time to make a difference?

Only one thing is certain. Whatever happens in Vacuo will echo the things to come for the rest of Remnant.

Series Synopsis: Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

Narrated by Yang

Previously on ENMY…

After watching from the sidelines long enough, Salem decides to bring the fight to Vacuo personally.

One of the dirtier plays she makes against the Kingdom, is sending a parasitic-type of shapeshifting Grimm into the city called Cuckoos.

While the Kingdom has its hands full with dealing with the infestation problem, Salem builds her army and chips away at the Kingdom’s forces.

With an alliance formed between Vacuo and Atlas, an Atlesian Fleet is enroute to provide Vacuo with aid.

The problem is whether it will get here in time, or be enough to make a difference.

This leads Weiss and Cinder to asking Qrow for help, or more importantly, the immortal called Titan.

Meanwhile, Temujin comes up with a brilliant idea to exterminate the Cuckoos once and for all, and get this war with Salem back on track.

To do that, her Khans give Team ENMY the training session of a lifetime.

Whether we’re actually ready or not, we’ll find out soon enough.

It’s time for the war between Vacuo and Salem to continue…

As Team ENMY takes part in Operation Gun Dog!

Operation Gun Dog

Gun Dog: n.- types of hunting dogs trained and developed to assist hunters in finding and retrieving wild game, usually birds.

The sun was a couple hours from cresting the horizon, yet shades of purple were already trailing into the dark canvas above. The morning would arrive early—immeasurably so.

As if Remnant itself knew the day would be a long one, a pivotal moment that would determine the world’s very Destiny.

…

On the eastern shores of Vacuo, Temujin pensively overlooked her brother’s grave. A stone polished endlessly by seawater. A white tooth which sprouted from the sands of Vacuo’s beach.

“I wonder what words you would have for me now, brother? How disappointed I’m sure you would be.”

The old woman felt a sharp wind blow sand into the cracks of her face.

“I knew my ways wouldn’t last forever. Our people are learning that, too. It won’t always be the strongest who survive Vacuo. Which only begs the question, who will? Will anyone?” she sighed. “Whatever the answer, I’m no longer fit to see it.”

The constant sounds of waves breaking on the shore soothed the jagged corners of her heart, if only a little.

“Then again, what is the thing called, strength?” Temujin scratched one of her frayed ears. “Peh! What’s the point in getting philosophical now? Why did I even bother coming here? It’s not like I’m asking your permission!”

The old woman turned, and began the trek back to the city.

“Hmph. To make sure my people live to see a world better than the one I forged—”

“What is one more sin, anyway?”

X X X X X

At the mouth of a cave, staring through the waterfall, Inna Kao looked to the horizon.

In her hand, was a steel chain with three dog tags hanging from it. She shifted through each one, like a pious one did their prayer beads. The names of her late teammates cycled her fingers and formed silently on her lips.

“Ferret.”

“Remington.”

“Earp.”

Their deaths were anything but remarkable. They were three among the countless who lost their lives in this War. As a soldier, Inna knew it was only the way of things. It was inevitability, it was their occupation.

“Ferret. Remington. Earp.”

But it didn’t stop her from wanting to give them meaning. To give reason to their sacrifices. Out of the members of FIRE Team, Inna was its only survivor. She decided it was on her to accomplish what her teammates could no longer not.

And if the war’s end was brought sooner with Vacuo’s destruction…

“For the fallen…” she whispered.

Inna snapped her rifle to her shoulder, and aimed Raven down her sights.

“Good reaction,” the woman greeted coolly.

“Mornin’. Done conferrin’ with the enemy?”

“You do know the enemy is a matter of perspective? Unless, we’re talking about Team ENMY, in which case, it is their namesake.”

“…”

*Sigh*

Raven rounded her way to the other side of the cave’s mouth, and sat across from Inna.

“You and Bean are too smart not to see what’s waiting at the end of this.”

“I see Vacuo fallin’, and Atlas next.”

“So, you haven’t had a change of mind after meeting the illustrious puppeteer behind it all?”

“Salem gives me the creeps, that’s for damn sure. But she won’t be the end of the world. If anyone will, it’s gonna be Bean, and I won’t let him go that far.”

“If you only knew,” Raven sighed again.

“I’m sorry we’re comin’ after Yang, if it makes any difference. Condolences and what not.”

“Inna, you’re the one I’m going to feel sorry for, if you two actually meet.”

“That right?” Inna set her rifle to the side. “So, what are ya goin’ be doin’ when the battle finally breaks out? You can’t fight your home, but you can’t fight Salem neither.”

“I guess, all I can really do is sit back and watch.”

“Even if I take my shot at Temujin, too?”

“No direct interference with the Witch. Those are the rules.”

Inna couldn’t help but turn a skeptic look at that, but the woman only remained passive.

“I heard from Adam back in Mistral, you tried to kill Yang and her team.”

“Different circumstances.”

“And you tried again in Atlas.”

“Again, different circumstances.”

“…”

“The wording’s very strict on my contract. Me not being forced to fight Vacuo is one of them.”

“Team ENMY isn’t from Vacuo.”

“The moment Temujin put them under her protection, they were under Vacuo’s protection. To be honest, I didn’t know that loophole existed either.”

Inna breathed a small chuckle, then her demeanor hardened.

“But if Vacuo falls…”

“If that were to somehow happen, I’m sure Yang’s strong enough now she won’t be killed so easily by me.”

“You give a whole new meaning to the term ‘tiger mom’, you know that?”

“So, I’ve been told.”

Raven got up, and began moving into the cave. She stopped to glance back.

“I’ve had my share of fighting the wrong battles for the right reasons, Inna. I fought my own team, whole Kingdoms, practically made enemies of all the wrong people. And I lost a lot of good friends along the way.”

“…So?”

Raven’s expression became conflicted.

“You have an obligation to let them go, Inna. Trying to make a world that should have been with them in it isn’t an honor—it’s an insult. Don’t shame them by trying to make them stay. Death is a part of who they are now, and you can’t change the memory of your teammates. Took a long time for me to learn that.”

“……Does that preachy horseshit work on everyone, or am I the sole exception?

“No, it never works. But I tried.” Raven showed a sympathetic smile of sadness. “Maybe, I just like acting out a history that keeps repeating itself.”

“…”

“My Mentor once said the same thing to my team. I think my brother and I ended up more or less like him, if not worse. The question is, do you really wanna end up like me? Do you want that for Bean?”

“…”

“That’s a question you ask yourself. Or maybe, some things you can’t learn until it’s too late… Or maybe, you think about it.”

The woman turned to walk away, and Inna heard one more sentence echo back to her.

“For the fallen.”

X X X X X

“Will this work?”

“If they fail, we have our options.”

“Yes, but will it work?” Weiss repeated her question.

“It depends greatly on Salem’s ability to read our intent,” answered Cinder.

“Yes, but—”

“You know, there is a reason we agreed that I be director of all affairs military.”

Weiss pouted at that.

Within Atlas HQ, the two queens and their Board of Directors watched a projection of Vacuo’s capital. The room had gotten fairly used to the debates between regents, to an extent they no longer paid it any mind when they bantered playfully, at least from Cinder’s side.

“Leave the chess game to me, my Queen,” the Black Queen smiled. “We have controlled what variables we can, stacked whatever odds in our favor as we could, prepared as many surprises as possible, and devised several failsafes should our initial plans fall through.” Cinder continued to read the projected layout of the land. “If there is a weakness to be found in our opponent, I will exploit it.”

“I suppose that is what you’re good at,” Weiss huffed. “Do you still need me here, when you have your generals?”

“Oh, don’t be like that. You offer an insight I could never hope to gain.”

“I vaguely remember you calling it naivety and optimism, right before choosing to ignore them.”

“And I would rather hear them, than not.”

“You’re insufferable,” Weiss crossed her arms.

“Yes, and I enjoy your company, as well. Now, I believe Team ENMY is about to begin the Operation.”

As all eyes turned to the floating hologram, Weiss sulked deep into her chair. Her worries continued to pile until they were mountains. She couldn’t help thinking there was something else they could have done—something they could still do.

…As it stands now, I can’t see Vacuo winning this, she thought.

Cinder knows this, too.

She’s looking for a mistake by Salem, but will the Witch really make one?

Weiss turned to her fellow regent, and saw Cinder with her usual confidence. But she knew deep down, the Black Queen held her doubts.

“Nothing is more troublesome than an opponent with a good sense for preparation,” she remembered Cinder telling her before. It was also one of the reasons, the Black Queen liked to keep her around—as she remarked right afterward.

“Nor, is there a more troubling opponent with good intuition.”

Weiss scoffed to herself.

Preparation vs. Intuition.

I wonder if that’s all it comes down to.

The cold math.

Weiss thought there should be another way. A method which varied from Temujin’s, Cinder’s, and the Witch’s. Some other element they could exploit, because as it stood now...

Even I can tell, the way this is playing out—if we go purely by numbers and strategy…

The White Queen shook her head vehemently.

I can’t think that way.

There has to be something we can do for Vacuo.

But any more dedication of our resources, and we practically forfeit crucial defenses for Atlas.

What more can we commit to this battle?

What can I commit?

…

I can’t help remembering, it’s because I fought that way, I lost to Cinder in the first place.

Weiss set her sights to the projection and the countdown on the corner of the map. It read ten minutes.

Is this all?

What we can sacrifice and what we can gain?

What moves are more effective?

How far we can predict our opponent’s moves?

…

Weiss stared at a certain holographic marking one of the four units with a [Y].

What would Yang say, I wonder?

X X X X X

Yang sneezed loudly, before wiping her nose. A moment later, their radios gave a soft crackle.

“Did I hear some nerd just short out her comms?”

“It’s called a sneeze, Em.”

“Someone was probably talking shit about you.”

“I wonder who.”

“Just sayin’… it was Ilia.”

“Wouldn’t put it past her.”

“I can hear you, you know?” Ilia’s voice resounded testily.

“Oh, don’t get your pony tail in more of a twist,” Emerald snickered. “Ready comms check. Gun Dogs Four, maintaining bored status.”

…

“Gun Dogs Three, ready,” Nai clicked in.

“Gun Dogs Two are ready and standing by,” Minerva answered.

“Gun Dogs One, geared and evil,” Yang checked in for her team.

They were positioned dead center of the city in the Hanging Gardens. The zone they were assigned was the most populated.

With her, were Neo and Mercury. Biding their time on the top balcony of the palace, her teammates double-checked their equipment.

“Think they’ll hold up?” Mercury tapped his steel toe against the floor.

“I doubt Masa could’ve done it any better, Merc,” Yang replied.

After having both their prosthetics broken, the two had to rebuild them from scratch. It was odd not having their reliable weapons tech in Masa Moon with them, but they knew their designs by heart. It was only a matter of trust at this point. And although Yang had entrusted him with far more, Mercury still found himself with the question.

“Hey.”

“What’s up?”

Mercury took a short breath, before speaking again.

“What would you think about me opening a weapons shop?”

“What, like here in Vacuo?”

“Doesn’t have to be here. Anywhere, really.”

“Sure. Why not?”

Mercury stared at her without another word. Only then, did Yang straighten with more attention.

“Merc?”

It wasn’t hard to read him now. He was trying to hide it, but he was obviously being sheepish.

“Oh,” Yang blinked a few times. “You mean…… quit Team ENMY and start a shop full-time.”

“When everything is over, I mean. It’s just a thought, but yeah.”

“You mean…When we beat Salem, end the War, and somehow stop Remnant from destroying itself, even when it’s already halfway there?”

“Yeah.”

“…” Yang cocked her brow. “You really believe that, don’t you? That we’re somehow going to win this.”

“What, you don’t?”

“I do, I just… never heard it out loud, or I thought I was the only one.”

Yang felt a sudden jab in her ribs by Neo beside her.

“Okay, okay. WE thought we were the only ones. But back to what you were saying…”

“Yeah, I- I don’t know. It’s just an idea that’s been bugging me lately. Reading my dad’s diary, killing Jupiter, meeting Temujin, working with Brig, and the other stuff. It just got me thinking.”

“That’s new-puh!” Yang felt Neo jab her again. “Sorry, Emerald’s influence. Go on, buddy.”

“All my life, I’ve been raised to be an assassin. When Cinder picked me up, it was pretty much the same. And then, there was this team. Don’t get me wrong, running with this crew… not as bad as I thought it was going to be. But working here, in Vacuo? I just kinda…”

Neo rounded her way, and hopped up to hug Mercury from behind. The expression was as transparent as the girl herself. Her gloved hand went to petting his head, like cooing a child. An encouraging smile beaming on her face.

“You heard the wife,” Yang nodded. “Me and Neo will support you in whatever you wanna do, any way we can.”

Mercury fought down the brimming emotion, and forced himself to turn to the scenery. A hand went to hold Neo’s, while a stuttered breath escaped him.

“Thanks, Neo, Yang. Means a lot.”

“Of course. Hey, I might even join you.”

“Seriously?” he asked in surprise.

“After some adventuring, though. I still want to live the life of a Huntress, but maybe after that.”

“You could sponsor me and have your name on the door. Mercury & Yang’s Workshop: Best Weapons Forged Under the Sun. It’s not a bad ring.”

Neo started pointing to herself eagerly. Shining expectation lit her grin.

“You could…be our billboard girl?” Mercury replied uncertainly.

“Our mascot,” Yang added.

Neo put Mercury into a headlock while puffing her cheeks.

Yang chuckled. “I don’t know about sponsoring, though. Me and Neo might be flat broke Huntresses. If you’re looking for sponsors, why not ask Em?”

It was then, she paused.

“Have you told Em, yet?”

“I…” Mercury sighed. “I don’t know what to tell her. I mean, we’re partners. She probably expects me to join her and Cinder in Atlas. Part of me thinks that’s what I should be doing. I mean, this weapons shop thing is just a dumb idea I came up with and—”

Yang and Neo jabbed him on each side.

““It’s not dumb!”” the two communicated. Then, Yang clapped his shoulder.

“I bet you anything, Em’ll support you even more than us. She’ll get it.”

“We are talking about the same person, right?”

“Aren’t we?”

“……Maybe, I’ll put the word with her and Cinder after this Vacuo deal is done.”

“Sounds good.”

The three took a moment to silently watched the morning sun rise.

“You know,” Yang started. “It’s bad luck to talk about stuff like this right before a life-threatening job.”

“Yeah, but we’re Team ENMY,” Mercury smirked back.

“Our luck’s always been shit.”

X X X X X

“Our luck’s always been shit,” Emerald heard the sentence, as well as the matter her partner discussed beforehand.

Idiot.

Why would you think I wouldn’t understand?

And why’d you go to Neo and Yang first?!

“Ugh! Whatever!” Emerald grunted aloud, and kicked the copilot’s console.

“Hey! Easy on the merchandise!” Ilia complained beside her. “If you heard something you didn’t like, maybe you shouldn’t be using your Semblance to peep on other people’s conversations.”

“Just a little warm up, ponytail. Get the mind juices flowing before I run the biggest brain acrobatic routine of my life.”

In an airship circling the capital, Ilia and Emerald continued to chat.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” the chameleon Faunus asked.

“Not like your boss gave me much of a choice.”

“Either we will become nourishment for the fire, or the fire will nourish us,” Temujin lectured over the radio. “Life is nothing but an endless cycle of tests and trials.”

“And I thought I was the only mind-reader here,” Emerald replied.

“Well, I thought it was about time Ilia voiced her doubts about your abilities.”

“You could make that guess every two seconds to be fair. Flygirl here, has no faith whatsoever—and no problems showing it either.”

“Only because so much depends on your team,” Ilia growled. “Especially you. If you mess up your part even a little, our people are the ones that pay for it.”

“We’re only disarming a thousand ticking time bombs, surrounded by innocent people, across one of the largest cities in Remnant, in the span of half an hour. You should relax, you’ll live longer.”

“…”

Emerald sported a sarcastic grin.

“Alright, ladies and gentle-powerbottoms. It’s Hurt Locker time. I’m putting the sheep under.”

The girl stood from her chair, and made her way to the back of the cockpit. There, four Godmother devices were hooked up to a metallic helmet, which Emerald fit snuggly onto her head.

“Clear your mind,” Minerva advised over the comms. “Remember, there are no limits to what the mind can do.”

“I know, I know. There is no spoon,” Emerald breathed deeply through her nose. “Just brain-tapping a whole Kingdom. Not like you guys are asking me to perform a miracle or anything.”

It was dawn, and the teams could see the citizens of Vacuo already waking. Many of which, were flooding the streets, busy with their daily commutes.

Emerald could sense their minds, some still vulnerable to sleep and dream. It was the best time for her Enchantress’ Semblance.

She closed her eyes, and the Godmothers hummed with life. Her fingertips pressed the sides of her helmet in concentration. The devices amplified her abilities, as the focus of her thoughts extended in every direction.

Once Emerald finished linking each mind to her mental network, a single word echoed the thoughts of Vacuo’s people.

(((♪Dream♪)))

X X X X X

As soon as Emerald voiced the mental chant, various bodies across the city collapsed where they stood. Everyone that fell under the girl’s Semblance was trapped in a dream of her crafting.

Meanwhile, the only ones still awake and unaffected by Emerald’s Semblance could only be the teams—and the Grimm.

On the outer crust of the city, the team assigned Gun Dogs Three, dashed through their designated area. The walls faced the most thorough inspections for Cuckoos, but there were still a few that made it through screening. And it was on Nai, Mouse, and Knives to eliminate them all.

The silver irises of the siblings glistened with a sharp light. They tracked their targets with their exceptional vision, and marked them for execution.

“Nai, the man at 2 o’clock,” Knives called.

Even without hearing the end of her sentence, the large warrior bolted in the direction of her sight. There, a lone man carried on with his inspection of a damaged truck, oblivious to the events unfolding outside his peripheries.

Nai braced his fist in his other hand, and drove his elbow through the man’s skull. A large splatter of blood erupted from the other side. There was a glimmer of doubt, before the person’s shape distorted into its original, grotesque bird form.

Before Knives called out the next target, Mouse spotted another Cuckoo, and drove his straight-edged dagger into its solar plexus.

The three continued to zip through the routes planned beforehand. Some of the Cuckoos were discovered and mapped prior to the operation. Some were not.

Regardless, they carried out their grim task with cold execution. Any person found moving was eliminated without second thought. If they hesitated, the Cuckoo might become aware and potentially kill anyone in their surroundings. Fortunately for the trio, most of their prey would be isolated.

The same could not be said for the team assigned Gun Dogs Two.

…

Standing on the highest branches of Shade Academy’s great tree, Minerva and Temujin gazed down at the tiny specks below.

Unlike the outer perimeter, the middle-zone was significantly more populated. Groups of Vacuo’s citizens and Shade Academy’s students were bunched together. The Cuckoos would no doubt notice what was happening.

Minerva had to act fast. Her spellcasting had to be swift, but precise. The point of her wand jabbed at the various focuses for her Magic, before violently flicking them upward. Bodies levitated into the air, clear of any sleeping innocents.

As some of the Grimm realized what was going on, they began to morph back into their monstrous forms. But by the time they could utter a single sound of resistance, Temujin silenced them.

The old wolf Faunus took a number of arrows shafts in hand, and loosed them all at once. A stream of projectiles coated in black Aura sniped the flushed prey like a high accuracy shotgun.

Without a moment’s pause to see the end of her partner’s work, Minerva was already levitating the next batch—and then the next.

“I need more targets!” Temujin hollered, after a time.

“Silence, you cackling fur rug. My role requires more concentration.”

“I can only hope so, and it isn’t about having second thoughts on killing your students.”

“They are not my students,” Minerva clenched her teeth, as she lifted another group of Cuckoos into the air.

“How certain. It’s very possible Emerald missed Enchanting a few.”

“There will not be any innocents among them.”

“It is possible.”

“…”

Temujin didn’t meet Minerva’s brief glare.

“Truth be told, if she missed a few, they would still be considered acceptable losses.”

The Headmaster’s anger boiled for a second, but was channeled into the violent purpose of her wand.

“Emerald will not err. I taught her myself…!” Minerva grunted.

“…I see.”

“And her Magic surpasses my own.”

“Hmph. Quite the pedestal you’ve placed for the girl.”

“As if you and I haven’t been training her team to combat the Witch herself.”

In the small break between shooting down her last targets and waiting for the next, Temujin spared a thought in the Hanging Garden’s direction. She wondered how the main team was performing—the three who were charged with the most occupied section of the city.

As far as they were, Minerva and Temujin could hear distant explosions. As well as the disgusting caws of dying Cuckoos.

…

“Clearing three!” Yang called out.

Racing down Vacuo’s main thoroughfare, Yang made a hard angle turn towards a trio of confused bystanders. When they saw the blazing blonde rocketing toward them, they began to drop their forms. But any resistance they could put up paled in the strength of the girl hurling them into the air.

At the same time, Neo made out a couple of moving bodies in houses. The team would waste crucial time trying to navigate indoors, so she dropped them down a mirror portal like a trapdoor. Her targets reappeared with the other Grimm flushed into the sky.

“I got ‘em!” Mercury shouted, before leaping off one of the nearby roofs.

He concentrated pockets of dense air at his heels. And then, with a resounding kick, the aerial bullets pierced the flightless birds. Their overgrown skulls cracked open with a sickening crunch, as they faded to nothing but ash.

Still treading the air, Mercury used his vantage point to spot the next number of confused wanderers.

“Five in my sights!” Mercury called.

“Pull!” Yang answered.

The young man dove down, and skidded across the rough road on his landing. His body postured low under the unsuspecting group. And then, with a chain of upper-cutting kicks, launched the targets into the air, positioning them much like Yang and Neo had done before.

The Spring Maiden stopped in her tracks to unleash a flurry of blows. Artillery shells from her Ember Celica detonated the prey at the peak of their lift. And then, it was on to the next Cuckoos.

It was a crude, but effective method Temujin developed. Each of the Gun Dog squadrons was assigned a spotter, a flusher, and an exterminator—or some mixed combination of the three. Emerald’s massive Enchantment negated any panic unwary innocents would have caused, while making it easier to identify the Cuckoos. Their next main focus was to separate the Grimm from its immediate surroundings, which usually involved casting them into the air. There, they would be safely disposed of.

Apart from the other two teams, Yang, Neo, and Mercury traded between roles in order to conserve as much Aura and stamina as possible. The fluidness of the interchange set a low margin for error, but the trio performed it with all the flawless execution of a perfect killing machine.

As Mercury and Yang hurled another group of Cuckoos into the sky, the pests managed to complete their transformations into their original forms. Their gross necks elongated their overly sized heads as their beaks parted. A cacophony of cries screeched above Vacuo.

Despite the altitude, the team could feel the life force sucked from the area, making the air thinner.

Neo took aim, her thin blade exposed from its sheathe. Her irises flickered a sharp light, as her sword worked a blinding fashion. Even though she was still groundside, her attack pierced the Cuckoos from afar.

Neo’s training with Raven did much to improve her sword work, as well as awaken the abilities of her Silver Eyes. Just like her “mentor” had shown during their deathmatches, the petite girl was now able to distort time and space to an extent that her blade was able to strike from a distance and seemingly multiple times at once.

Still…

This isn’t good.

Yang clenched her teeth, as she continued to lead her squadron’s charge through the area.

We’re starting to cut it close.

The last batch got their attacks off. More of them are starting to catch on.

We need to do move faster.

Seeming to read her mind, Neo and Mercury accelerated alongside her. Their wash, rinse, and repeat pattern grew more rapid in its pace. They carved a swathe of floating Cuckoos in their wake, paving from one section of the city to another.

It’s only a matter of time.

I got a bad feeling.

X X X X X

“I have a bad feeling. Hm.”

Salem stood in the middle of the Black Oasis, while facing the direction of Vacuo. Her brow squinted in concentration, sensing the events transpiring in the distance.

“They are purging the Cuckoos,” Bean appeared at her side, having detected the same thing.

“So, they are. It is time we made our move, as well. Notify our forces. The moment for Vacuo to be put out of its pitiful misery has arrived.”

“I understand.”

The boy turned, and headed into the cave to rouse their soldiers. At the same time, he linked his thoughts to the various leaders of the Grimm Clans. Their dark army would be ready to march in a matter of minutes.

Salem allowed herself a small smile of approval, as she gave a passing gaze to the humongous black cocoon bridging two cliffsides.

“Well, then. A valiant effort on your part.”

But did you really think it would be so easy?

X X X X X

Neo was the first to notice the abrupt change.

She immediately stopped midstride and closed her eyes, as if entering meditation. Yang and Mercury slid to a halt as well when they noticed. Just when they were about to ask what was wrong, the answer to their question came over the radio.

“Salem is aware we are eliminating the Cuckoos. She is activating them. All of them,” Mouse’s voice crackled.

“We still have a quarter of the city left we didn’t cover…!” Yang bit her lip. She looked to Mercury, and then, to Neo. The fight wasn’t out of them yet, and neither was it for her. “I was starting to think this was going a little too smoothly for an ENMY gig,” she commented with a light heart.

“See? Our luck’s total shit,” Mercury remarked. “I’ll get our ducks in a row?”

“And I’ll knock ‘em down. Do or die time.”

“The words our team lives by.”

“Can you get them all?”

“…Not all of them. Neo’s probably working her Silver Eye voodoo to find them, but it’s not like I can—”

“Neo maps them, I’ll translate the locations, Merc pulls, and Yang’ll mop them up,” Emerald’s sudden orders came over the comms.

“Em?! Aren’t you supposed to be maintaining the Enchantment?!” Yang exclaimed.

“I can multitask! Neo, feed me the positions of the remaining Cuckoos, double time!”

The petite girl’s scrunching face blinked open, and a bright light poured from her vision.

Her abilities were not perfect and far from infinite. But her sight encompassed an All-Seeing Truth. Whatever the moment, whatever the distance, whatever the depth, if Neo concentrated hard enough, she could see it. If only for a moment.

But a moment was all she needed.

“A trained swordsman must take in the world in a flash,” Raven’s mantra whispered the back of her mind.

“Read the terrain and your opponent, like that!” she snapped her fingers.

“The scenery changes, the landscape shifts, all in the blink of an eye.

So, you need to capture that.

It’s the world in a single moment.”

Raven’s katana drew just short of Neo’s throat.

“And you need to wield your blade in the same instant.

Knowing what I know about you, it should be something you can excel at.”

Neo viewed the locations of the remaining Cuckoos in vivid reality. Their outlines, their exact coordinates, all of it was captured in her memory, despite the enhanced sight being granted for a nanosecond. She tapped her communicator quickly after.

It was Emerald’s turn. She kept track of her team’s whereabouts and instantly accessed Neo’s memories. And like a well-prepared document wrapped in a bow, Emerald took what was mentally presented to her, and packaged it Mercury’s way. In the transference, she added her own brand of assistance to the data.

Mercury’s mind was suddenly filled with thoughts that were not his own. The familiar sensation of his brain being hijacked was something he was fairly used to, but never liked. Still, he allowed Emerald to take over his senses.

It wasn’t just plain sight that came to him, it was something he could only describe as a sixth sense being opened. A type of clairvoyance that was impossible to perceive by normal standards.

The locations of the remaining Cuckoos were not simply shown, but “illuminated”. He recognized the targets’ exact positions in reference to himself. A complete awareness of spatial cognizance layered into his conscience.

“Damn. They gave me auto-aim and no fog of war?” Mercury scoffed with an impressed tone. “Leave it to Neo and Em to prep the best cheats.”

He breathed deep and measured his timing. The Cuckoos were already about to siphon the life from their surroundings, but it would do no good to rush. His confidence had to be unwavering.

“Dominance is key,” Temujin’s words echoed his memory.

“Your Semblance and mine have a similar peculiarity.

You possess an aggressive heart.

You pent up all those things your environment gives you, and you trap it in that little chest of yours.

Your emotions, your suffering, your sins.

And then, when you’ve had enough, you lash out. Unleash what is inside onto the rest of the world.

But you lack direction.

Do not blindly release the storm brewing in your soul.

Temper it!

It is an instrument that can be used to control your environment.

And when you master such a thing, the sky will no longer be just an outlet for your rage, or merely your playground.

It will be your domain.”

“Everything above the ground belongs to the sky,” Mercury said quietly. “And I am the sky.”

The wings on his heels flourished, like a great bird of prey taking flight. Wind and air within a several mile radius answered his call. His influence extended to the very atmospheric pressure and weather itself. Even sound silenced at his increasing concentration.

It was a small motion, barely noticeable. But in the stillness of the thick stagnant space, the stomp of his left foot amplified, like the world shaking. As if a deity had laid down a new law on the mortal realm.

Every Cuckoo was expelled into the sky without exception. They were mere moments from killing those around them, but in the span of a breath, Mercury flushed them out like the poison they were.

“You really are something, Merc,” Yang couldn’t help, but say in amazement. “You, Em, and Neo are seriously something. It’d be embarrassing if I fell behind now.”

The Spring Maiden’s hair flared with blazing excitement, as she cracked her gauntlets together. Her irises painted with a bright-orange glow. She could see the burning cracks marking the Grimm’s weaknesses. The “life” fluctuating in their bodies was already emitting a feeble light.

“I Burn.”

X X X X X

“Hm. It appears the team of miscreants is growing into a greater thorn than initially anticipated. Due to yours and Temujin’s teachings, no doubt,” Salem said, while staring off a cliff, in the direction of Vacuo.

“It’s not direct action against you,” Raven replied. “No breach in contract.”

“I know. Your offenses aren’t punishable…yet.”

Raven chuckled. “Is the great Witch starting to slip?”

“You can hope, but you’d only disappoint yourself.”

“…”

“The efforts of your daughter’s team and your old allies is of little matter. Vacuo will not see another sunrise after today.”

Raven couldn’t muster a comeback. There was no point. That, and the evidence laid before her silenced any realistic rebuttal.

The endless stampede of countless limbs trampled the desert below their perch. Grimm of all manner of make and terror made its march on the capital. A host of monsters Remnant would possibly never witness again. An army that painted the golden sands of Vacuo in shadow.

“For what it is worth, Raven, I am sorry it had to come to this.”

“……No, you’re not.”

“You were once my most loyal knight. And now, I destroy your home because of your previous betrayal. I truly do lament this.”

Raven wanted with everything to draw her blade, and cut down the woman in front of her. It would be a kill of weightless guilt. The easiest death she could ever gift.

“I can only wonder the price your next betrayal will warrant,” Salem resumed.

“You’ll have to end Vacuo first. It’s not decided yet.”

“Oh, is it not foregone conclusion?”

“The strongest will survive Vacuo.”

“My dear, tsk tsk tsk,” the Witch clicked her tongue, while shaking her head disappointedly. “How long do you plan to delude yourself? I doubt even Temujin still considers that creed to hold true any longer.”

“Despite all your schemes, you still don’t know how this story ends,” Raven spoke her last words of defiance.

“Oh, but I do, poor Raven.”

The Witch turned to the gigantic cocoon with a pulsing red core behind them. Large cracks in the shell began to heave like melted ice caps. The dark webbing gave way to the monstrous creature hatching inside.

The first part to break out into the light of day, were a pair of gruesome wings. So large and jagged, but possessing of some mysterious elegance. One beat of its dark sails kicked up a gale of tornadoes.

Raven could hardly believe what she was witnessing. The sight of the nightmarish Grimm was enough to shake the most veteran of Hunters.

In the meantime, Salem only gleaned a satisfied smile to herself.

“Have I rid you of your naïve delusions?”

X X X X X

As the last Cuckoo was eliminated, Mouse’s panicked voice crackled over the radio.

“Temujin! We have a problem!”

“Calm yourself, Mouse. What is it? Has a deviation occurred?” the elder asked.

“No. Purging the Cuckoos has incited Salem to attack as planned. But it is only now, that the means have been revealed.”

“So, her army marches?”

“Yes, but before that, there is a greater problem!”

“What is it?”

As Temujin wondered what could rattle Mouse so, she found her question answered by the enormous black shade flapping its wings towards them. She could see the Grimm over the height of the city’s walls. Although it was still far, she made a rough estimate of its size—and its sheer mass made her doubt her senses.

“What in the world?”

“Anyone else see that fucking thing?!” Emerald shouted over the comms. “I’ve never seen a Grimm that huge!”

“That is because there’s never been one…”

“I read up on all the Nightmare Class Grimm in Vacuo. Only one of them matches that description, and it’s supposed to be in hibernation, isn’t it?!”

“It appears the Witch modified its sleep cycle.”

“And apparently its diet! That thing looks roided out compared to the pictures!”

“Finish your Enchantments, Emerald. Remember to relay my orders. Our people must be ready to fight as soon as possible!” Temujin ordered.

“Shit! SHIT!”

Despite the curses, Emerald reached into the Vacuo citizens’ dream states, and carried out Temujin’s orders.

As she and Minerva readied to return to the Hanging Gardens, the elder woman could only look on to the horizon with a bleak expression. Salem’s Grimm army was circling to hit the city on all fronts. And making its way, in the most direct route possible, a monster-like butterfly continued to beat its wings.

“Behemoth…”

#RWBY #yang xiao long #neopolitan #emerald sustrai #mercury black #rwby fanfiction #rwby au #ENMY

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fallen029 · 6 years ago

Text

You Get These Words Wrong, Every Time; I Just Smile

Whenever I’m writing something, no matter what it is, it always sounds...written, if that makes sense? Like fiction or something? So sorry if this sounds that way. I just have a hard time writing things that don’t sound like the set up (which makes this sound like a set up; it’s not).

It’ll soon be February 15th here which will mark the first full year since my father officially passed away (he’d been hospitalized a few days prior to that). I thought that I would write something about it and I truly did plan to, maybe something retrospective or introspective or something, but I’m still just as much at a loss of words as I was the last time I saw him. I feel no more sad today as I did yesterday or the day that he passed away and I’m not really sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’m not terribly emotional, either, right now, which I would have guessed I would be, before, but the older I get, I guess the idea of anniversaries, over death or anything else, kind of just don’t make sense to me. Since I’ve been out of school, where dates and seasons mattered (as they determined breaks), I find time to be less and less important to me. I imagine it’s that way for a lot of adults, really. It’s hard to explain other than, when each week is basically the same, regardless of season, and you don’t have a huge two months break in the Summer and others sprinkled between, it’s hard to really care about the date.

Maybe that’s just me?

Regardless, for all I thought that anniversary of his death, especially the first year, would mean to me...it just doesn’t? I don’t feel like that’s an indictment on people who do get caught up on those sorts of things, I’ve just always felt distanced a bit, I guess, from those sorts of things. So I can’t really write some sorrowful, sad piece right now about how much I miss him (I do) or how terrible sports are now, without him to talk about them with (they are; even baseball, sadly, isn’t the same for me) or how it feels like my life is a completely different one from the one I had when he was still alive (it does, like a barrier or something), because I feel those things every day and I have since that last day, honestly. My father really was one of the only people in my life that I truly spoke to (I’m a bit socially awkward) and losing him has really fucked with my head more than it probably should.

There’s really nothing more to write about that.

So I thought, instead, that I’d kind of just share some of the stories (two of them) that my father liked to tell me over and over again. We had an extremely close relationship and spent a lot of time together. We drove, a lot, back and forth when I was growing up, from the towns we lived in and the one that he grew up in, where his parents and siblings still all lived. It was only a seven hour drive, in which we’d listen to music (mostly jazz and old school blues) and, the last six or so years, when I fell in love with old time radio shows, I’d download us some of those too. But we also talked, a lot. I think everyone’s parents have some interesting stories and my father was no exception.

My father was a kid, living in the western part of Texas (about an hour away from Odessa), when Texas finally began to desegregate their schools. It, obviously, was no easy feat. In fact, the town beside the one my father grew up in, had been in the process of building a new school right before the final issue from the state that, yes, everyone must desegregate, and decided to try and send the black kids to that school, instead. Anything to keep them away from the white children. The state had to come out and force them to have the ‘colored’ children with the whites. That new school sat vacant, my father always said, for awhile before it was re purposed because the state wouldn’t let them use it.

The two beside it, the one my father called home, was hesitant as well, I’m sure, but didn’t try anything underhanded. So, I believe my father was in the second grade (I could be wrong) when school segregation came to an end. There’s a lot of fucked up stuff I could talk about dealing with those sorts of things (I’m sure most of us with black parents can), but his favorite story to tell wasn’t really terrible. In current context, probably, but my father always found some humor in it.

His first week of school was a bit rough. The ‘black’ school he’d gone to up to that point was literally on the end of a block two over from his home while, the white school he now had to walk to with his siblings, was in town a bit. I don’t think that his younger brother had started school yet, but his sister, who’s older than him, would walk with him there, but he’d have to walk home on his own for whatever reason. Which was fine, of course, given that kids walked all over back then, but my father was no doubt a bit nervous, given the climate at the time.

Well, he left school either the second or third day and this little boy followed him. A white boy, in his class. My grandparents how, along with all the other blacks and the Hispanics in town (though they had their own little section) all lived, literally, on the other side of the rail road tracks, right before you drive ou of town, while white people lived on the other side, with the more ‘town’ area. It’s hard to explain, I guess, if you’re not accustomed to that (I mean, come on, it’s still a thing now), but blacks just weren’t allowed to buy homes or live on the other side of the tracks.

It’s how it was.

Well, my father’s walking home with his friends and this one white boy starts following them, my dad in particular. My dad always said that his friends started teasing him for it and it made him uncomfortable, so he yelled at the boy, but the white boy wouldn’t leave, so my dad got upset and ran home. The boy followed him all the way to my father’s backyard where, once he got there, my father yelled at him, “Why are you following me?” and the boy only shrugged a bit, I think, my father would always say.

Then he told him, “I wanted to see where the blacks lived.”

My father went inside them, where his mother was, and was real upset about it told his mother who only laughed (not in a mean way, of course), but he always told me that part. That she laughed.

The story just always sounded bizarre to me, when I was a little kid, honestly. Like something out of a movie, if not kind of fictitious. My father liked that one though, a lot, that memory, I guess it was, and he told it to me many times growing up. I asked him before, I recall, if that boy and him didn’t get along after that or if he even knew him and yeah, my father could name him by name and said that they were friends, you know, in that way that everyone’s friends once you know one another, and would always tell me that I just didn’t understand. It was a different time, after all.

I guess it could be construed as humorous (in an absurd kind of way), because my father lived no differently than that boy did. It was (and had became again) an oil town and everyone was pretty much across the boards poor save the few rich fucks and that boy wasn’t any better off than my father was. The ‘blacks’ lived just like the ‘whites’.

When I went back to live there, a few years back now, to take care of my father’s mother, another one of the old ladies in the town passed away. A black lady who, obviously, lived on that same side of the tracks. In the way that everyone knows everyone, my father was friends with that woman’s kids (my grandmother knew her well; again, just another time). Facebook, for all it’s terrible deeds, brought my father really close to the people that never got out of that town (a lot of them didn’t) and he reached out to her older son, who he was close friends with, and they talked quite a bit. Became close again.

Well, anyways, they were having trouble selling her house and my father remarked how this was odd, to her son, because oil’s been doing well recently in that area (enough so that the town has really come alive again) and surely someone was willing to take it off his hands. So my father’s friend replies that a couple were asking about it, but he didn’t wanna sell it to them. When my father asked why, he replied it was because they were Mexican and it wouldn’t feel right for Mexicans to live in that house and then griped about, nowadays, more and more of the ‘families’ were dying off and their children and grandchildren were just letting anyone buy their houses.

My view of my father, is, of course, is highly favorable and therefore unreliable, and I’m sure he’s had a racial thought before, but he truly wasn’t that way. And it tore him up that one of his friends, who knew how whites had treated them, could say that. He didn’t talk to him again and, given my father would be dead in the next year or so after that, I guess they never will.

I mean, I guess it sounds preachy, the way that I wrote that, but I don’t mean it to. It’s just the way it is, flat out. I don’t know why my father liked that story so much and I don’t know why his friend couldn’t see the sad irony in his statement about selling the house, but it’s just how it is, even today. My father had a lot of similar, some a bit more sinister in the intent, stories about those sorts of things, but that one always stuck out to him.

Another he liked to tell me was, later, in high school, when he got voted for some sort of yearbook. award. It wasn’t most popular, I don’t think, but some of that nature, where there was a boy chose and a girl chose. Well, he was the first time a black kid had been chosen. The problem with that was, in the year book, the boy and the girl that each got chose for this award always took a picture together. Always.

That was much too scandalous for my father’s small town and, of course, he didn’t get his picture taken with that girl. Instead, that year and only that year, my father and the girl, who he was actually really good friends with, took separate photos in the year book which were put on the same page together.

A compromise of sorts, I guess.

It’s funny because, as I type these out, these aren’t, you know, the least bit humorous, but my father would always laugh when he told them and I would snicker too, I guess at the absurdity and the lack of tact they hold currently. It’s ridiculous, you know? How this was just acceptable back then? I guess that’s the joke. Far worse things happened back then, obviously, and still do today, but for some reason, he always had a way of finding the humor when the acts were done against him.

Maybe that was just a defense mechanism?

The other story I wanna share is a bit more vain, I guess, on my part. It’s not really a story my father would tell me, but rather something that occurred. If you’ve followed this blog for a hot minute, you might have guess I’m a pretty big fan of baseball. This came from my father who, unbelievably, was an even bigger fan than me back in the day. As he got sicker, this died down as he had less time to devote to watching the games, but it was still something he enjoyed and we talked about often. Some of my favorite memories of being a kid were waiting for him to get off work (he always would around the same time) and get home with dinner all right around the seventh or eighth inning of the Ranger game, which we’d watch together. All summer long.

Well, if you’re not as familiar with baseball, the Texas Rangers went to the World Series only twice in their entire careers (so far, I say, hoping against hope that this rings true eventually), the first time being in 2010. It was, understandably, a big deal to my father who’d been a fan since he was a kid. So, of course, he was invited out a lot, to watch the games at bars and, for one game, the only game of the World Series we won that year, my uncle got tickets and my father went.

It was the last Rangers game my father ever went to and we won, so he was pretty stoked. When he got unable to go to games anymore, he always reminded me that the last game he saw, in the ballpark, was a win in a World Series. It felt poetic enough, right?

We lost the others after that one, obviously, and I remember my father at home for the final one and he was pretty down, of course, because it was obvious that we weren’t going to win the World Series, but I remember him telling me that, even though he liked when he went to the game, he had had as much fun, not even at the bar, as he did at home. And I kind of scoffed at him, because that was kind of ridiculous, but he insisted.

“I’d rather watch the game with you.”

That’s what he told me. And I was in high school at the time, so I kind of ribbed him, talking about how he was lying and I’d rather have gone to the game, personally, and he only laughed.

We went to the World Series for the last time that next season, in 2011, and other than the games where he ended up working, he watched them with me, at home.

I can easily say now that I, too, would rather watch a game at home with him than be anywhere else.

Even when I was living away for a bit, he would call sometimes, during games, and we’d talk. We actually talked once a day. He’d call me on his way into work and, when he was off, we’d talk much longer, probably multiple times a day. I guess that’s why it’s been so hard, since he’s been gone. I really did talk to him, if not see him, each and every day. It really has been like living a completely new life.

My father wasn’t the best person in the world, not by a long shot, but he wasn’t the worse. He was someone who worked his entire life for the little he had and was happy to have it. He was a good man who didn’t deserve the pain he was in, up to his death, and I am so glad he’s no longer in it, now after it. He liked mundane things, like I do, like these stupid stories that I told that really aren’t gonna have an impact, you know? On anyone who reads this (I know no one is going to read this) or, ultimately, on anything.

But it’s kind of the same stupid stuff that I like to write, you know? I love writing about people in ordinary, simple situations dealing with typical problems. Even when I write my Fairy Tail stuff, it’s never about jobs or, typically, really plot driven. Just silly, ridiculous situations that I think other people might find humorous if I write them down and many some of you do, maybe you don’t, but I appreciate it, all the same, the people who take their time out to view this dumb shit I write in my spare time.

We don’t have forever and life isn’t infinite, but things we write or say or tell other people do stick around. My father’s gone but the things he shared with me, all the things he’s told me over the years, will stay with me to the grave. I dunno if I’ll ever post anymore of them, but they mean something. To me.

I hope everyone has a nice February 15th as well as every other day, I guess. Heh. More fanfics soon, hopefully.

#anniversary #Death #RIP Dad

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msmovingforward · 3 years ago

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Cute Twins and Haunted Inns: RHONY S13 E9

We open with Leah Facetiming all the women, inviting them on a trip to Salem, MA, somewhere she had always dreamt of going, but being that she had lived in New York City pre COVID, and she could go LITERALLY ANYWHERE ELSE her entire life, she had never made the trek before. Everyone is game, and Luann tells a joke about witch vaginas being able to grip brooms.

Ramona and Bershan have lunch together, with Ramona wearing her ridiculous clear mask, which doesn’t touch her face. They discuss the previous episode’s dinner in Harlem, which they both agree was “preachy and teachy.” I’m inclined to agree because that’s how it felt as the viewer of a show that is literally broadcast to gay men and liberal white women across the globe. Can somebody please explain to Bravo what the meaning of guilty pleasure is? I wanted to see women (sometimes literally, shout out to Aviva Drescher) tearing each other limb from limb and hurling insults and pinot grigio at each other. If I wanted to learn about the Harlem Renaissance, I would watch PBS. (For the record, I have educated myself on the Harlem Renaissance, and I am open to learning more about Black history. I just don’t want to watch drunk women who are not open to the experience have to sit through it during my gay UFC fights. I said it. Sorry!)

Eboni and Sonja head to Philadelphia on a Sprinter van. During the first five minutes of the trip the two pals drink Starbucks coffees in holiday cups (I’m confused about the timeline here. Isn’t it close to Halloween when they visit Salem? Sus...), champagne, and kombucha. We get a flashback of Sonja talking to Ramona and Luann in a previous episode about how the other women need to be more receptive to Eboni’s educating them on the Black LIves Matter Movement because this is a huge platform/opportunity for her to raise her voice. The two women agree that Ramona is extremely uncomfortable talking about race. Eboni confesses that the Salem trip is going to be a “do more” and not a “do over.” For the LOVE OF GOD IF I DON’T SEE THESE WOMEN LITERALLY BURNING THEMSELVES AT THE STAKE, AND RATHER YET ANOTHER LECTURE ON THE HISTORY OF RACE IN THIS COUNTRY, I WILL ACTUALLY JUST START WATCHING PBS DOCUMENTARIES AT 9 ON TUESDAY NIGHTS JUST TO SEND A MESSAGE TO BRAVO. ENOUGH! Sonja’s Adderall kicks in, and she and Eboni begin loudly chanting “No shit in Salem!” Why are they going to Philadelphia to meet a matchmaker for Sonja?

The two meet Eboni’s matchmaker friend, and Sonja confesses that she trusts that Eboni has done a great job of describing Sonja for her. Eboni states that she sees a lot of the root of Sonja’s problem being that she “allows the other women to walk all over her and speak for her.” I think it might be pill addiction and alcoholism, but you know what they say in 12 step meetings! Rush into the first relationship you can find, so here we go! The matchmaker asks a few questions about Sonja, and Sonja allows Eboni to answer most of the questions for her, as she orders herself little neck clams and coffee. Sonja states that she’s passionate about helping what the matchmaker refers to as “the vulnerables” (gag): the LGBT community and artists. She states that she’s definitely a “Frenchophile”. Does she mean she loves Frenchie from Grease? Because I think the word she’s searching for is Francophile, but I digress. She says money is not important to her, and Eboni says that’s not true. She says she doesn’t care how old her potential husband is, which is also untrue, unless the advice she was giving Tinsley during her tenure was complete bull shit. The entire trip it turns out was pointless, though, because the matchmaker apparently already had someone in mind.

We have scenes of the women packing for Salem, and I learn that putting a chapeau on a bed is horrible luck via Luann yelling at her assistant.

Next we see the women all rendezvous on a tour bus Leah booked for the four hour drive to Salem. We learn that Bershan had cancer, which turned her into a real go-getter, and we learn that the producers do not like Bershan because they just let one of her boobs fly waaaay to the west in her interview look. Leah reveals that the dinner she has planned is in a tattoo parlor if anyone is interested in getting inked. Leah is the only RHONY with any ink, as we get a flashback to the women having conniptions last season when they realize Leah has forever tarnished her body with the devil’s pen.

The women arrive at the Hawthorne Hotel, which looks honestly pretty standard and really pretty basic and underdecorated. The scariest thing about this place is the General Manager’s fake Boston accent. The women do a weird witchy prayer. Ramona smells an opportunity to use her fame for something free, and gets the Manager to agree to give her free room service. Luann lights up some sage, and the women all get ready for the leather and lace tattoo dinner party/attempt to reveal that Ramona is a Trump supporter. In the lobby Ramona yells that she’s “tweaking. Bershaun is TWEAKING!” No, Ramona, Sonja WAS tweaking, but it’s a quarter past Adderall time for her now, and she’s settling into what appears to be Xanax o’clock.

The women arrive at the dinner, and Sonja is immediately infatuated with the two twins that greet them, whom the producers label “semi spooky twins.” Luann is impressed by the size of the fortune teller’s hands. The coven of wives sits down, as the chardonnay interacts with Sonja’s Valium, and she just starts saying whatever comes to her brain, for instance the seeds that Eboni planted in the Sprinter the previous day about Ramona being extremely unreceptive to racial conversations. When Ramona tries to dodge the conversation entirely yet again, Eboni says that there’s no way Ramona is going to back down from this conversation because Ramona is “too strong.” Then Eboni just casually drops the words white supremacy, like she didn’t know what she was doing, and the Bravo boom sound effect comes out. Luann then points out that Sonja seems to be playing both sides, and we’re shown a flashback of the same conversation at Ramona’s house from earlier, in which Sonja is saying that she agrees Eboni wasn’t reading the room very well in Harlem. Leah admits that the Harlem night could have been handled much better, but defends Eboni, saying that she’s not allowing herself to get shit on the way she was when she first joined the cast. Leah calls Ramona a moron and says that Ramona is what’s wrong with the world. Ramona tries to run away. Everyone accuses her of being a coward, so she stays momentarily. Bershan calls Eboni’s delivery at the Harlem dinner preachy. Ramona says she just doesn’t get it. Eboni has a great life. What’s the problem? Why bring up the race thing? She says Eboni doesn’t suffer, and Eboni asks if Ramona is aligned with white supremacy. Leah calls Eboni out because her mother voted for Trump, and Eboni has said positive things about Trump in the past when she was on Fox News. Ramona sneaks away and comes back suspiciously eager to play a game. Were people doing coke in the bathroom, Ramona? As soon as Ramona comes back, Luann slinks away as well. What a crazy night! It’s a to be continued, and it seems like we might finally get some actual content this season finally!

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maddzyohh-blog · 7 years ago

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INTERVIEW WITH JAMES POLLITT FROM SOSEITY

What are your names and what do you do in the band?

Hi!! I'm James Pollitt and I, write, as well as being lead vocalist in Soseity, (and I'll probably a little bit of keyboard once I get good enough) Lucas Rigby is on drums, Cam Stephenson is on bass and Ben Moore is on guitar and they both do vocals too.

How did you meet each other?

Ahah it's actually quite a funny one how me and Cam met, he messaged me, maybe 18 months ago now, asking me where I got my penny board from. I started doing a bit of promotion for his band at the time, The Strays, and eventually I started Soseity with him and his best mate Tom Braithwaite. Together, we wrote ITILY and Lover That I Lost (mainly them though to be fair, I just wrote some lyrics over those beautiful instrumentals). I owe them a lot to be honest, Tom's left but without him and Cam I would never have had the confidence to do anything with my songs. Just before Tom left, we pulled in Lucas, who I knew through a mutual friend. And then we replaced Tom with Ben, who I'd met through Instagram. It's worked out quite well really to be honest like, me, Cam and Ben are all at the same uni so that's bare deece. It's all just mad for me, being in a band and that. I just proper love these lads man.

How old are you and what are your birthdays?

I had to proper hit up the lads and ask them this not gonna lie to ya rkid. Cam's is in May, the 29th I think? Don't quote me on that though ahah. He's just started uni and he's 18. Me and Ben are a year older, in our second year at Uni, I'm born on the 18th June (expecting bday presents off people now that I've said that) and Ben is born on 5th August. Lucas is the baby of the group, he's just started college, he's only 16 the lil cutie and his bday is 10th July.

What are your favourite colours?

My personal favourite colour is sort of a turquoisey colour. I've always been a fan of blue (being a lifelong City fan, I feel like my dad would have killed me if it had been red aha) not too sure about the other lads, but that's the colour we're using a lot recently so I'm guessing they can't hate it too much.

Why did you decide to form a band?

Well I've been writing songs for a while now, maybe 5 or 6 years, and eventually I felt like I wanted to get something that I'd written out there. I felt like I had a lot to say, maybe some of its shite but hopefully there's some good in there. I didn't wanna put stuff out when I was 15/16, because I really struggled with my confidence and self-esteem a lot at school. I had really bad acne, I was really awkward and shy, to be honest, I just wasn't really happy with myself as a person, I think that's reflected in the early stuff I wrote. Not gonna lie, I kind of looked like a potato until maybe like I was 16, school really wasn't a good time for me. When I got my Instagram, at the start of college, I felt a bit more confident in myself generally, as well as in my songs, and my voice. But I wouldn't have said I was ready to put them out there. Cam and Tom gave me that final push to get my songs out there, or at least attempt to do something with it. Being in a band gives me a bit more confidence. I just hope people like it. I really hope they do...

How did you choose the name Soseity?

'Soseity'... Well this is where it gets a little pretentious, sorry, ah, erm so basically me and my sister were looking at starting a clothing company. She wanted to use the name Ipseity which is Latin for 'selfhood', I wanted Soseity. The clothing company never happened but I kept the name as I thought it was kinda cool...

'Seity', I think, is ancient Greek for individuality, and I feel like there's a lot of people who just wanna be sheep in the world, it's like, kind of a play on the fact that there's not much individuality in society. I hope that doesn't sound too cuntish? I feel like it does aha.

What genre of music do you make?

I mean yeah, I'm not really sure how I'd describe it. I wanna kinda break genres and do different things. Having done promotion for quite a while now, I feel like where a lot of bands go wrong is it's all a bit too similar, with their songs all being slightly 'samey' and also a bit too much like what's already out there, like I can't even tell you how much I've heard "these sound proper like Catfish, or the 1975 or the Smiths" when introducing the band's I've worked with to people, and like that's okay, but I don't really wanna be a tribute band. Is that too rude to say??? I don't know man I don't wanna upset anybody but I just wanna do something cool and a bit different...

I've taken influence from different bands (mainly bands like The Cure and The Smiths because they talk about things that matter and I fully love that) from 80's/00's pop, blues, from newer bands that to me, stand out, bands on the new indie-pop wave like HUNNY, Clay, Phoebe Green and King No-One, I love their lyricism, I love what they're doing man. Along with other bands like SWMRS, Bulletproof Bomb, Carnival Club and Field Medic (and a few others man, there's a few too many to mention) they, they're all a bit different and I love that man. Also like anybody who follows my twitter (painfully for them, sorry) kinda knows I love grime and 50's music as well. Basically I'm not sure what vibes we'll go with but I know there's a mix of heavy shit, indie, things about my mental health struggles, political stuff and a few norty little love ballads (who doesn't love a good ballad) aha.

What are the inspirations behind your songs?

I mean there's a lot of different inspirations, but basically I want to make music that matters, I feel like anybody can write a half-decent love song, but I kinda wanna say something important with my lyrics. Saying that, I've literally just been dumped after a very long-term relationship with a girl who I've been madly in love with for basically my entire teenage life, that's still a bit tender, my heart's a bit broken, so expect some stuff that's a bit lovey dovey and sad. It was one of those where I really did think we'd get married and it would last forever, maybe that's naïve, and I guess she didn't feel that way, as sad as it is. but yeah, like anyway all the songs I've written about her and us over the last 5 years or so, will hopefully be coming out soonish, I just hope that's not too awkward for her, or for me (they are quite heartfelt ahhh)... A lot of my inspiration comes from my own life, my vulnerability, my struggles with mental health issues, and obviously I'm a History And Politics Degree student, there's a lot of politics and references to global events, as I said I wanna talk about important things like, otherwise, for me, there's no point...

If you guys gain like thousands of fans will you use your platform of fans to promote things that are important to you like politics and to promote stuff that needs to be shown awareness to such as; mental health; and sexual assault within the music and acting industry and outside of the industry in the real world?

Yeah man, that's proper important to me. I've been sexually harassed at so many gigs and assaulted on a few occasions, like I said before I've just got out of a long-term relationship, but I think, as it is with boys, there's a few horrible people who simply don't think the rules apply to them, I've never understood why people just assume that they can touch people up, or act like a dickhead, it's so grim. I wasn't ever gonna be about cheating and I certainly didn't want my dick grabbed when I was trying to start a pit or like just have some fun with my mates. When we start gigging, people who sexually assault will be blacklisted. They can fuck off I don't care. Obviously mental health issues are a huge part of who I am. Previous work with Yellow4Change and my yellow heart project, along with my own issues, really shape who I am and what I wanna talk about in my music, songs like The Bridge, which I posted an acapella snippet of on Twitter, are really like a little flood of my emotions. Music has really helped me through my problems and I hope my music can help people through theirs. Politics, although I'm worried about the engagement level and market for it, is a massive thing to me. I think people don't realise that the world around them is politics. It's not just a vote or a leader. From the doctor's appointment they moan about, the roads they drive on, to the price of gas and electric, politics is everything. I want to help people to see how important politics really it is, without sounding too much like a preachy prick.

When do you plan on releasing music?

Well I've got to apologise about that. The songs should have been out ages and ages ago and I really have fucked that and I'm sorry to anybody who cares and wants to listen. They'll be out soon and I'll keep putting previews on twitter and insta. Sorry everybody, love you...

Do you want to stay anything to the people who already support you?

Erm, I don't really think many people will care at this point. But just be kind, everybody you meet is fighting a hard battle man. Be there for people and just yeah, be kind.

Follow Soseity on:

Twitter

Instagram

Follow James On:

Twitter

Instagram

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southsidestory · 7 years ago

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Bringing back an oldie that is pure comedic gold. I never actually shared the review here because it’s massive but you know what? I think some of you would appreciate it anyway! Random reviewer does get points for using his actual account and not dropping this pile of shit in my inbox anonymously. That I can respect, and for the sake of protecting his FF identity, his name is blocked out.

And for those who don’t want to click to embiggen:

“Another fiction (recommended by someone) concerning Sasuke and Sakura, and yet another grave disappointment. You have used Rinnegan Sasuke and adopted a monumentally absurd logic of him actually having trouble evading her during their training session? You cannot be serious! Why do all people infatuated with Sakura (or Hinata) and her non-canon “oh-so-awesome” speed (and her nonexistent and laughably poor CQC prowess) put her on such a high pedestal? It just baffles me. That is practically non-canon to the point of being grossly and obscenely OOC. Hebi Sasuke will cut her war-arc and Gaiden self down into confetti, even if he stands at a great distance from her (make it more than a kilometer, if you must), before she even has a chance to think, let alone blink. That is how fast Sasuke is. The guy was dodging consecutive Clay-based C2 (C4 as well) blasts that are well above hyper-sonic speed … in succession like it was nothing. The only time he got hit was when he let Deidara hit him to lure him into a trap. As for Kenjutsu, then people still misread that Bee battle and use the “underestimating thing” so freely without even paying attention to the manga (your S-Class mission took such a liberty there that it’s ludicrous)? Where Sasuke (despite being badly injured; as confirmed by Jugo and himself), was still faster than Bee to throw a sword into his other hand and hit himself with a Chidori before Bee even made a single stab; a fact confirmed by Bee himself (that the wounds were not fatal as he used Raiton to make them non-fatal)? Or Bee confirming and equating an injured man’s reflex action speed with Fourth Raikage in his Raiton cloak without the second “Bijuu chakra level” augmentation as Karin comments? A (Ae) guy who has been confirmed to be much faster than Minato when he uses Raiton armor (without “Bijuu chakra level” augmentation) as stated by Shee in the Viz translation of the manga? Or Bee admitting that Sasuke was the toughest opponent he ever took on? Where are you getting this from anyway? Who does a Rinnegan user have to underestimate? Who has this luxury? Forget that, how many opponents Sasuke took down during his training with Orochimaru? It led him to comment that he (when he was Sasuke’s age) was a lesser genius? Or Mifune (the guy with the fastest sword draw) commenting on Sasuke’s speed with the sword? Or Sasuke taking down several samurais as if they were cow-fodder; who were shown fight toe to toe Karui and Omoi (the same people who handed Sakura’s posterior to her in a second)? And she was using her Kunai and deflecting his attacks … just like that? It just bamboozles me … Then you showed that she deflected his Shurikens like it was nothing? Yes, like Orochimaru being lured into a trap by a twelve-year-old Sasuke did, right? Even he couldn’t do that. And that was when Sasuke was just a child. Or Danzo dying to one despite possessing about a dozen Sharingans? Or Deidara getting pinned by Fuma Shurikens despite being in air and throwing bombs at Sasuke? I mean, he STILL couldn’t evade them! Or Itachi, who could only match his prowess when he’s an expert in this as well? But Sakura is suddenly an expert in Shuriken-Jutsu; at Itachi’s level? Heck, he got his brother’s headband when he just woke up from a Tsukuyomi, stretched to 48 hours by Itachi and he was only eight years old then! By God! Should I go on? And “tossed” sounds like such an odd choice of words for Shurikens. Is he playing ball with her? Seems like it, as he left that one-of-a-kind dexterity and intelligence home when he sparred with the uber-talented Queen of ALL Ninjutsu (I will get to this point later), Kenjutsu, Shurikenjutsu etc. you name it! She’s so damned talented! And you are not even talking about these versions of Sasuke. You are talking about Rinnegan Sasuke; a guy who was much faster than Kinshiki (both in speed and in reflex action) and took his horn out and destroyed his created-swords, how many times? The only thing that threw him back was the force of the blows. Christ Almighty … he’s having difficulty with … Sakura?! Heck, the guy was much faster than Naruto (he has always been) in the movie. This is what irks me to no end about these Sakura-centric (or even Hinata-centric) fictions. Sakura’s status is upped to a ridiculous degree and Sasuke is dumbed down (a prodigy, might I add; Shikamaru also looked up to him by his own admission) to match Sakura’s level to such a degree that he becomes a painstakingly laughable, blubbering, hyper-romantic jackass who just … happens to be in love. Why? No reason. This fiction is no different. Why is Sasuke getting jealous of her sleeping around? No reason. He just is. When Sasuke in canon manga has always been an adherent of ideals and never a pointless, salivating chaser of romance and women. Which would explain why he only had sex with Sakura ONCE in over a decade. And that is canon-manga. Once he gave that to Sakura, he left her and never looked back. When he came back in the movie, it ends on a note of him standing away from her and looking off into the distance. In Gaiden, when she leaned in to kiss, he threw her an odd look and high-tailed out of her. Which version of Sasuke does this fandom keep writing? I don’t get. Really, I don’t. Then we have the issue of Sasuke crying in her arms and having nightmares, when he never did in the manga. Which portion of manga is this where he cried in her arms, or anyone’s arms, for reassurances or hurt/comfort nonsense when he isn’t even a child here? The only time that happened was when he fell down and was fainting with no control over his body after a lethal bite from Orochimaru (a bite that is only survived by one in TEN people). The kid was twelve then. The whole premise of your fiction is based on the sheer bastardization of his character. You have practically butchered it … and in second chapter, might I add. The very beginning! Your story goes on in a typical fashion, claiming scattered cliches of romances whilst not giving much value to what the manga actually exhibits. I have no issues with your genres. It’s your treatment that is bothersome. That admittance of “I didn’t listen to you” before Sakura about that criminal was literally the last straw; forget how absurd and unreal a Rinnegan user’s bloodied form actually was (I don’t even want to touch it, as it’ll open yet another can of nasty worms). It was another grave error of making Sasuke act like a complete fool before a ninja infinitely inferior than him on every front that it’s practically impossible to take this fiction seriously. When has he ever done that? Even after discarding Konoha’s putrid Nationalism, the only words he said to Kakashi were, “yeah, sorry.” Then we have the preachy tone of your fiction (till the sixth chapter anyway), where you define the clear tones of “hedunwrong” and go off with lengthy and highly hilarious comebacks from her and Naruto on putting Sasuke down. Disguising these admonishing tones with back and forth moods that is just off-putting. Give me a break! I cannot believe you are actually serious with this. Naruto would never admonish Sasuke or treat him badly (even mildly). The guy hyperventilated, let Karui sink his face in, was willing to commit suicide over Sasuke for crying out loud. He never went down this shady road. Heck, the guy repeatedly whined in several monologues that, “why don’t you come home, Sasuke?” and, “I understand how you feet” etc. The instance that made me drop this story was Sasuke sharing his … clan’s rite with Sakura. What on earth? You do realize that it requires “potent” Uchiha chakra to perform it, and that it has never, and I mean NEVER, been shared with or copied by anyone outside the clan? No one has managed it? Not even Kakashi. Why? Because if you had ever paid attention to the manga, then you would have realized that Uchiha chakra’s potency is comparable to the Bijuus (high-tier Uchihas). It is mentioned by Kurama and talked about several times in the manga. It is unmatched in the manga. Quite literally, given that Indra’s line directly inherited the Sage’s “strong Chakra” genes, Ashura never did. Now, one can let you off on the whole Sage inheritance as this was completed in 2014, but the rest still holds. The ground literally tears up and breaks apart when this technique is used when it happens with no other Katon tech from people other than the Uchiha. Sasuke broke apart a large stone wall with Dragon Jutsu when he launched it at the sky. How on earth can Sakura learn it … whose chakra is literally not even in a pathetic basket by comparison in regards to potency? I don’t care if it was just a knock-off version of it, how can she? When no one has … not even the Sarutobi clan who also happen to be experts in Katon Jutsus? Christ on a crutch, is all this even necessary? This out of character, sloppy take on a superman Sakura with such an “ah-sum” potent chakra, “ah-mahzing, theygoblindman” speed that gives Sasuke trouble (I gotta laugh at this), “es-pahshal” intelligence (when she’s canonically far below Sasuke, and I mean FAR below him) that allows her the accomplishment of such impossible feats? Her Chakra Control (CC)? You do realize that she would require CC at Sasuke’s level to even think about producing half the effects of the Uchiha tech as she lacks the chakra? Sure, her CC is pretty good. Excellent even. It’s above Naruto’s, as all he does is handle great volumes of chakra; the Bijuu literally hand over kneaded chakra to him. But at Sasuke’s level? The guy’s CC is at the Sage of the six paths level. Yes, this is manga fact, stated by Kurama itself to Naruto when he made a Pseudo-Mezo out of his Perfect Susanoo and poured perfectly controlled and kneaded Bijuu Chakra within it! Now, how can she produce such a control to even accomplish this given that three ingredients to produce this are missing; CC at Sasuke’s level or slightly below

CONTD … him, Chakra potency and distinct bloodline attributes? Apparently, it is of little issue as canon plot be damned! Honestly, this Sakura is such a Mary-Sue, capable of feats that must make her canon self dizzy and mad with envy. That’s the problem with romantic fandom here (NH as well, along with Hinata-Centric fics), they have little to no understanding of the manga. It doesn’t even seem like they have read it beyond the bubbles, contorted to suit their self-created romantic perspectives or fanciful notions of God characters and Naruto is the worst offender there, where he’s (hilariously) given a Sharingan and made to act like Sasuke, when that fandom hates the latter’s guts! All you have done here is assimilate several cliches and tropes to create a narrative that is built on a flimsy and improper footing. People do that with Uchiha brothers all the time. Make them chase like silly, idiotic men in the grip of a concept that is not even remotely touched upon in the manga. Not even close. Making them seem like these inconsequential, trivial caricatures that litter ever Samantha’s and Martha’s romance novels … and it’s quite painful to trudge through it. And that is not all, you have several pacing issues as well. There are abrupt breaks between scenes when they can be joined to the next one as the mood remains the same. Improper use of conjunction or it’s missing altogether. Dragged on scenes where pointless romantic mood is given priority rather than realistic characterization, which should be used to build a mood. That Sakura confession was the lowest point in this fiction till the sixth chapter bar Sakura’s “es-phashal” status as a ninja. Granted, we all make mistakes. Heck, I make them all the time and cannot seem to pinpoint them until after a month or so. But this is Beta-Read! How could your Beta not see these errors in genre and plot pacing in general, along with the over-use of OOC-ness to make this work AT ALL COSTS? I suppose fictions like “Aves of Maria” are a rarity, where the author knows they are dealing with a character that is not an exhibitionist of bleeding romance and is reserved and cold on such front. There, it was put under the carefully thick garb of lust. But, this is Naruto fandom and that was DeathNote fandom. That aside, it wasn’t all doom and gloom. You have quite a lot of positives as well even if the narrative tone is very troublesome. Your dialogues are clean and have a tinge of realism in them. The flow is (mostly) maintained and there is a good amount of consistency between the scenes. That is, perhaps, the most solid part of your story. You tend to remain consistent with the whole thing (good or bad). It tends to create a good flow that is hard to accomplish. As a final word, you have a solid footing as a writer. If you stop using tropes and cliches (like you have done here), then you can accomplish a lot. I may have sounded harsh, but I am a blunt individual. And I would never have reviewed it had someone not requested me to, to be honest. Anyhow, good luck on your future endeavours. I wish you all the best.”

I wish you all the best too, dear. *kisses*

#this still cracks me up #fanfiction #bad reviews #what is fanfiction?#for 300 alex #bless you rando reviewer #long post #wall of shame

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